


Snow's Sacrifice

by ArtemisArcher83



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, EQ redemption, F/F, The Enchanted Forest (Once Upon a Time), What if... the Evil Queen had been unable to cast the Dark Curse?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 136,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28048146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisArcher83/pseuds/ArtemisArcher83
Summary: Snow thinks she's found a way to save her family from the Dark Curse. The Evil Queen can't step foot on her land and the Dark One is locked away. Just when she thinks that she, Charming and Emma are safe, things begin to go wrong and she finds herself backed into a corner. What concession will she have to make to satisfy the Evil Queen's thirst for revenge?
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 60
Kudos: 200





	1. Author's Notes

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes – please read.  
> T rating is mostly for adult themes and violence. Sex (eventually) will be implied/non-graphic.  
> Very slow-burn SwanQueen.  
> I don’t own the premise, setting and most of the characters depicted here. Sadly, the best ones belong to ABC.

**A/N continued:**

**There’s no need to read the rest of this page if you just want to get straight into the story. Be warned though, if you have any criticisms that relate here, I will just direct you back to this page. Other than that, enjoy!**

Rumpel is in the mines (not in a dungeon as mentioned in the musical episode).

Non-canon features: In the show, Regina’s Enchanted Forest-political position is a bit ambiguous in my opinion. I think early on it states that Snow has banished her, but she still has her castle/knights/resources etc. She still struts around and attends balls (Emma and Hook’s trip to the past). Here I’m going to just say that, instead of Snow banishing her, the kingdom is split into two. Regina rules the half of the kingdom where (I think Snow calls it) the Summer Palace is.

Regina’s castle in the show is high in the mountains and more of a fortress than a traditional castle, but here I wanted more of a community feel with servants etc going about their daily chores – still with the spiked towers, but also the court yard etc.

Personality differences (OOC?) These characters are ‘what ifs’ in the case where Emma grows up with her parents in luxury and Regina doesn’t kill the person she loves most, is given time to mourn and an opportunity to discover hidden talents that give her a sense of worth. I tried my best to make the differences still true to them, but I don’t know if I managed that at all.

In Storybrooke, after casting the dark curse, Regina created a void that couldn’t be filled (from killing her father), which is why the fact that not even 28 years of living victorious could make her happy. In the EF, without casting the curse, we have to assume that at least 16 years are going to pass as she waits on her moment of revenge, right? Without that void, and with the ability still to feel love (even if she doesn’t want it) would the EQ still be Regina’s dominant personality? Is she really going to sit and stew, twiddling her thumbs and throwing tantrums while she waits for Emma to grow up? Regina’s character in OUaT is by far my favourite because she has so many layers (like an ogre, an onion or a cake – take your pick!). The EQ is her one-dimensional, Disney/Grimm persona. I sometimes feel that keeping her in this role without the effects of the curse does her a disservice.

But story plots need their devices, don’t they? If you want to write a kink arc where the EQ corrupts the young princess, dealing the final blow to Snow, the EQ needs to stay as she was. True also for any story where Emma redeems the EQ and they discover true love. Et cetera!

But there won’t be much of that here. Whiling away the hours in lockdown, I tried to explore both character’s development in isolation. The Emma here has never known abandonment or betrayal, but still has strengths that are concrete to her character. She has to find her strengths and learn about the dark side of life in other ways. The EQ isn’t going to stand still while the world moves on around her. At the point in the show where she killed her father, she was conflicted and deeply depressed. Vengeance was her sole motivation – what would her life look like if she had to put that on hold? The canon evolution of her character tells us that she can and does change as the people around her influence her decisions so, unless she stays in a bubble, she is bound to meet people and situations that give her the chance to grow.

This story is heavily cliched and I make no apology for that. Clichés exist for a reason – they appeal to a wide audience over many generations. Plus, this is just a bit of fun to keep me sane while I stare at the same four walls every day. If I manage to see it through to the end, I’ll share it, and I hope others will enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ancient, shadowy creatures get bored easily in the Enchanted Forest. Their source of entertainment? Humans. So, when the Dark One’s curse threatens to take so many of the bipeds to another land, one of the creatures decides to intervene…

** Snow’s Sacrifice **

** Prologue **

**The Enchanted Forest – Rumpelstiltskin’s prison in Snow White’s mine.**

The Dark One’s eyes glittered with manic energy as Snow and her shepherd walked away, his giddy, jarring mutterings followed in their wake as the royal couple ascended endless stairs to return to their home.

David watched his wife from the corner of his eye, concern painted liberally across his handsome features. He knew his beloved had a narrow field of vision when it came to her step-mother, but he had hoped that she would keep a tight leash on her impulsive decisions – for their child’s sake. Not that he didn’t have his own knee-jerk moments lately. The prospect of becoming a father tugged at his most primal instincts. With the threat of the Evil Queen ever-present, he often found his hand unconsciously lingering atop the hilt of his sword. They were both on edge, but he was certain that giving Rumpelstiltskin any information about their child was a mistake.

Despite knowing that it would probably lead to an argument, the moment he and his queen entered their private quarters, Charming turned on her with hands planted firmly on his hips. “You told him Emma’s name,” he blurted, the accusation evident in his tone.

A thunderous expression rounded on the prince but as Snow recognised the worry on her husband’s face, it quickly faded. With a deep sigh, she sank into a chair and rubbed both hands across her face. “I know,” she lamented. She heard a similar expulsion of frustration from across the room and then, a few moments later, felt large hands stroking through her hair.

David forgave easily; he couldn’t stay annoyed when he knew how much sleep she was losing over keeping their family safe. “It’s done now and the Dark One isn’t getting out of our prison unless we release him.” He sensed an easing of the tension in her body and leaned further over the chair to kiss her temple. “Let’s try and avoid going down there for the time being though, eh?” She nodded against him where she leaned and he almost felt the exhaustion seeping from her. “You need to rest, Snow,” he told her gently, but with a tone that brooked no argument. “Have an hour to sleep and then we’ll eat and talk about what’s to be done.”

It was a mark of how tired she was that Snow did as she was bid and crawled beneath the voluminous blankets on their bed. The door had hardly closed behind Charming’s retreating form before her mind drifted off into a fitful dream.

In the corner of the room, a shadow lurked – its luminous gaze fixed avidly on the now slumbering queen. Breathing deeply through slitted nostrils, it pulled desperation and fear from the air. The Dark One’s plot was unfolding rapidly but there was time, still time to put a spanner in the works. After all, if Rumpelstiltskin managed to send the entire kingdom off to another realm, there would be nothing left to entertain this old sprite.

No, it needed the humans to stay. Nothing entertained more than their wars, their vengeance, their redemption and their unexpected passions.

It just needed to persuade this rotund human that its help was her best option.


	3. The Barrier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events of this story will take place after the Evil Queen’s first attempt to cast the dark curse. To begin with, each chapter will show how much time has passed since that night…

**Day One after the Evil Queen’s failed attempt to cast the dark curse…**

Magic crackled all around, picking up the dust and whipping it through the air. Billowing, purple fog carried sharp fingers of electricity through trees and shrub, decimating anything in its path, and then crashed in a spectacular display of fireworks against an invisible barrier… and died.

An enraged scream tore through the forest as the Evil Queen watched her magic fizzle away. For almost an hour, she’d thrown everything she had at the border leading from her land to Snow’s, but nothing had worked to break down the barrier that now stood between her and her vengeance. Her black knights littered the ground, some groaning pitifully as they held onto their broken body parts, but most dead. A combination of magic from the barrier and their uncaring mistress felled all who attempted to step onto Snow’s land. Mad with rage, the queen had demanded each give their last breath to see her to the other side. Even once they knew it was futile, she screamed at them to redouble their efforts.

Now, all that remained were discarded bodies and a frustrated witch with a black heart.

Storming back through the gates of her castle sometime later, Regina waved away every simpering servant who dared cross her path and ignored her father’s desperate attempts to ask what was wrong.

“Everything is wrong,” she seethed once the door to her bed chambers slammed shut behind her.

Henry had followed his daughter’s angry strides, as he often did, and stood close to the exit, his hands wringing ever so slightly as he watched his once smiling child give full reign to her temper. It had been many years since he’d seen genuine happiness in her expression and he was beginning to lose hope that he ever would again. “What did you discover?”

Earlier that morning, at sun up, with mask and armour firmly in place, she’d left to talk with Rumpelstiltskin. Embarrassment from her failed casting still played on her mind from the previous night. Rocinante’s heart had not worked to cast the dark curse and she swore that she would strangle the double-crossing imp if he didn’t have a good enough reason why. Surely he hadn’t given it to her knowing it was faulty? No, there was something she was missing – she had not killed her best and oldest friend for nothing!

As she went in search of her teacher in Snow’s mines, where the Charming pair had trapped the Dark One with some fairy enchantment, she found her way blocked. The moment she had tried to magic herself close to Snow’s castle, she’d hit an invisible wall and bounced right back. Infuriated, she’d returned home and gathered her personal guard – two dozen of her most ruthless, heartless knights. Indifferent about the casualties as they piled up, she’d even grabbed hold of a travelling peasant and ordered the terrified young man forward.

“Snow has somebody doing her dirty work for her,” Regina muttered, ostensibly answering the question, but her gaze remaining on her memories of the day’s events. “Neither I nor my black knights could cross onto Snow’s land, but the spell does not discriminate against everyone.”

She could still see the fear in the peasant’s eyes as they pleaded with her. He must have seen the way that the barrier twisted her guards and threw them headlong into trees and boulders, but she was beyond caring. Her cold sneer had been her only answer to his pleas and, with trembling legs, he’d stumbled forward. Thoroughly expecting to see the poor man tossed to his death against the nearest bough, the queen’s blood-thirsty gaze froze when he passed through without resistance and emerged on the other side unscathed. After taking one look at the renewed fury on her face, he’d turned tail and fled over hills and dales until he was out of sight, and the Evil Queen had been unable to do anything to stop him.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say it was that insipid, blue gnat shielding her, but this doesn’t reek like fairy magic. It’s something different… something older maybe,” she muttered to herself. Her voice softened dangerously as she began to contemplate the possibilities.

“So, you can’t get to the Dark One?” Sir Henry asked, his words unintentionally carrying a hint of relief.

Ever since his daughter had started cavorting with the infamous weaver, she’d become more and more ruthless in her dealings with people. If he’d known how, he would have broken them apart years ago. Well, he liked to think that he would have done something to stop Rumpelstiltskin from turning his princess into a monster, but other, lesser monsters had gotten the better of him before. Just thinking about his wife sent a shudder through his body.

Exasperated, Regina sighed. “No, Daddy,” she began, using a tone that brought a second shudder to the aging prince. “If I could get to Rumple, I would already have what I need for my curse and we would finally be celebrating my victory over Snow White. Without knowing what went wrong, I can’t fix it now, can I!?”

Henry recognised the frustration on her face, but he couldn’t help feeling relief swell inside his chest. Slowly, he stepped away from the door and approached the dark queen. One thing he thought he could rely on was the knowledge that she would never deliberately hurt him. They’d always enjoyed a close relationship – when Cora wasn’t around at least – and since she’d rescued him from Wonderland, she’d done everything in her power to see to his safety and comfort. She didn’t crawl into his lap and sob into his shirt anymore, but something of his child still lived inside the Evil Queen and he never missed an opportunity to try to reach out to her.

“Querida, have you considered that this could be an opportunity to…” he hesitated as her narrow gaze homed in on him. He swallowed. “To forget about this vendetta? To start building your own life, the way you want it?”

The queen continued to stare at her father, her eyes devoid of emotion as she waited for him to take the hint that he was wasting his breath. She was used to this tactic from him; every few months, particularly if she found herself at a dead end, he would advocate giving up. To him, it meant peace and maybe even a chance to be happy; to her, it meant betraying Daniel’s memory and letting his murderer go unpunished. As he trailed off, she pretended that he hadn’t spoken at all.

“If you have nothing to add, I need to see to recruiting some new guards,” she said finally, appearing disinterested as she tugged the cuffs of her coat to check that they were still in place. Striding back to the door, she paused only briefly to catch the whispered ‘I love you, mijita,’ before walking away.

* * * * *

“What do you mean you ‘made a deal’?” David questioned his wife as he paced the length of the dining table. She’d been napping periodically since he insisted that she needed to rest more, but she only seemed to be more tired with each passing day. “Who did you make a deal with? Because you promised you wouldn’t talk to the Dark One without me.”

Snow sat half slumped in her seat, one hand on her head and the other on her belly. A plate of barely touched food sat in front of her and she eyed it now with disinterest. “Regina wasn’t going to stop, David. We tried to find another way, but we were running out of time and fighting fire with fire was better than throwing Emma and me into a wardrobe where we might never see you again.”

“So, you cursed her?” He stopped pacing and frowned at the woman before him. He couldn’t say that he was totally against the idea; he didn’t want to miss his little girl grow up or be without his wife for so long, but, “Stooping to her level, Snow? You know she will retaliate.”

“What can she do, Charming? She can’t come onto our land now and she can’t send others to do her dirty work either.” Both hands settled on her belly now and began to rub in circles. “Emma will be able to grow up where she belongs, with her family, and by the time the spell breaks, she will have the strength to defeat the Evil Queen once and for all.”

David wandered closer and knelt next to Snow, his hands joining hers in their gentle stroking. “What exactly did you do, Snow?” he asked softly. He no longer sounded accusing, but he needed to know how she’d managed to keep her step-mother from entering their land and what the repercussions would be. “Who did you speak to? Was is Blu?”

Ebony hair shook with the queen’s head. “No, I don’t know who it was. It didn’t give me a name.”

Immediately, David tensed and huffed his disapproval. “Then why would you…?”

“I don’t know, David!” Snow snapped. She dragged an agitated hand through her hair and gritted her teeth against the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I’m tired and scared and I just want her to leave us alone so we can have our baby and be happy. This… creature said that it wanted to help us stop the dark curse. Because it’s me that Regina wants, it needed me to ask it to use its powers. Nothing else.” She gazed at her husband with desperation written all over her features. “It’s better than anything Rumpelstiltskin has ever offered us – he always wants something that benefits him more in the end. At least this way, we don’t have to deal with him at all.”

Reluctantly, the king nodded. “It must have said something else though,” he pressed gently. “What did you mean ‘when the spell breaks, Emma will be able to defeat the Evil Queen’?”

A rosy flush covered the queen’s fair features. “I asked how long the spell would protect us,” she admitted nervously. “It said the spell would wear off when Emma has the wherewithal to banish the Evil Queen for good,” she answered the unspoken question between them.

“That’s a lot to ask of our daughter, Snow,” he thought aloud. “But I see why you chose this way; it does seem preferable to whatever scheme the Dark One has cooked up. And it didn’t ask for anything in return?”

“No,” Snow replied. There was a light behind her eyes that hoped they were simply being given a gift because _they_ were good and didn’t good people deserve help when it was needed? Blu had always helped without asking for anything, and it was generally accepted that fairies were the epitome of goodness. Good must triumph over evil and this was just the world’s way of making sure they were equipped with the best tools to win. Whatever that shadowy creature was, it had to be on their side if it was helping them without wanting anything in return. “It just said that it wanted to stop the dark curse so that the humans would stay.” Looking at her husband’s worried features, she felt that hint of hope fade slightly. “It helped us, David. It must be good,” she insisted, repeating aloud the mantra she’d told herself since agreeing with the creature.

David tried smiling and patted his wife’s hand as he stood. “Perhaps. Can we maybe discuss the matter beforehand if you feel there are other deals to be made in future? I don’t like being left out of these decisions, Snow. We’re supposed to be in this together. As a family.”

His gently piercing blue eyes held Snow’s until, inside her chest, threatened to burst the guilt that she felt for not telling him. Reaching out to entwine their fingers, she struggled up from her seat and pulled them together into an intimate embrace. As their lips parted, she smiled up at him and nodded. “I promise.”

The tranquillity of the moment was broken by the sound of raised voices from the room beyond and, without even a glance at each other, they moved as one to see what the disturbance was. Without his wife’s pronounced waddle however, David was at the door several feet in front of Snow and threw it open with all the grandeur of a knight charging into battle.

“What’s all this?” he asked as he met with one of the guards from the dungeon and his personal steward. Seeing the harried expression on the young woman’s face, he made an effort to keep his own cool.

“I’m sorry, your majesties,” the steward said before the guard could open her mouth. “I told her you were indisposed,” he grovelled.

“Not to worry, Francois,” Charming responded, waving away the apology. He was much more interested in whatever emergency was afoot than stepping on the toes of propriety. “Aleya, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes, your majesty,” she stuttered, forgetting her task for a moment.

Charming preened subconsciously at the effect he apparently had on women now, until a non-too-subtle cough beside him dragged him back into the moment. “Erm, what did you need us for?” he asked as he reached out a hand to rest it on the small of his wife’s back.

“Beg your pardon, your majesties, but he won’t stop screaming,” the guard began to explain. “The Dark One insists on seeing you.”

Knowing that they couldn’t ignore their prisoner for long when he was aggrieved, the royal pair led the way back to the mines. They’d been there just a couple of days before and Rumpelstiltskin had appeared in good spirits, despite his incarceration, but it wasn’t surprising that he demanded to speak with them now; they’d ruined his plans no doubt with Snow’s back alley dealings this morning, and no amount of explanation or pleading was likely to placate him.

* * * * *

Rumpelstiltskin watched Snow and Charming walk away with significantly less glee in his mutterings than the last time. Regina had failed to cast his curse on her first try, as he suspected she would, but while he had waited for her to appear before him – angry and desperate for vengeance, the way he liked her – instead he’d overheard whispers of her inability to cross into Snow’s lands.

He couldn’t fathom it. His visions of the future had quite clearly placed him in the Evil Queen’s quaint idea of her perfect life where everyone was denied their happy ending, but he couldn’t possibly get there if she was too short sighted to see how truly dark she needed to be to succeed.

The charming couple had surprised him, and since they’d refused to tell him how they’d halted Regina’s advance, he was stuck in this prison with no clear idea on how he would manage to get out.

One thing _was_ clear – if Regina couldn’t cast his curse the way he’d envisioned it, then he would have to tweak the design and find another patsy to sacrifice a heart for his needs.


	4. A Silver Lining and a Deal

**Eight Days**

The Evil Queen tapped a single finger against the arm of her throne as she absorbed the news from her messenger. Her eyes watched the hat in his hands as he wrung it anxiously and a distant, detached part of her subconscious wondered if he would manage to tear it to pieces if she kept him in suspense long enough. The rest of her brain however, was swimming through consecutive waves of pure hate and ire. If it took her longer than usual to form the words to accompany this internal turmoil, then it was not without reason.

“So,” she spoke at last – ice and fire wrapping in equal measure around the single syllable. “Snow’s spawn finally popped out, did it?”

Almost eight days had passed since her failed attempt to speak to the Dark One. Considering how long Charming would have waited to make the announcement and how long it took for the news of neighbouring kingdoms to reach her castle, Regina guessed that her former step-daughter must have given birth about a week ago. Right about the time that they all should have been sucked into the dark curse.

To say that she was fuming would be an understatement.

“Does _it_ have a name?” she asked in a falsely sweet tone.

Swallowing hard, the messenger’s throat moved visibly. “Princess Emma, your majesty.”

The sound of shattering glass made all in the room jump. The queen’s stiff bodice strained against its wearer as her chest expanded impossibly outward. Eyes that dared – or could not help themselves – fell into the valley of flesh that grew before them, and then quickly found a tapestry or polished candelabra to divert them, lest the dark witch should choose to focus on a substitute for her vengeful thirst.

Everyone except the queen gaped inwardly at the fresh blood that dripped from her fingers where she’d held her wine. No one risked commenting though. They simply held their tongues and prayed that the pending explosion would not be as destructive as they anticipated.

“Princess Emma,” she repeated in the same syrupy tone. “ _Such_ a shame that I cannot send my felicitations in person,” she sneered. The faux lament sounded bitter against the sweet. The effort it took to keep up her evil façade rapidly dwindled though.

The throbbing in her hand didn’t hurt half as much as the stabbing in her chest. _That should have been me,_ she thought. The memory of a daydream long forgotten suddenly clawed its way into her vision, tormenting her with an image of Daniel holding their baby as another child clambered over him for a look at its new sibling. Feeling hot stinging at the backs of her eyes, she glared at the people crowding her throne room. She’d had enough.

“Get out!” she growled abruptly, startling the spectators into a flurry of action.

Only when she was alone did she look at her bleeding hand and the large piece of glass sticking out of the palm. It was enough to distract her from her melancholy thoughts and push every last bit of longing into the box where it belonged. With renewed focus, she slid the foreign body from her flesh and tossed it aside, watching as blood continued to ooze through the wound for a few seconds. Thoroughly intending to continue her troubled staring as a preferred alternative to succumbing to depression, Regina was thwarted again when the bleeding suddenly stopped and the gash began to close up.

And just like that, all of the anguish of the last half an hour evaporated. She waved her other hand over the blood, vanishing the mess. Her magic didn’t stretch far enough for healing. The Dark One might have access to all fields of the arcane, but since her own was fuelled by hate alone, she could not summon the necessary energy for ‘white magic’. How then had her hand healed itself?

“This wants investigating,” she whispered to herself, some of that forgotten enthusiasm for life returning to her voice.

Stalking through the castle, she ignored the sideways looks of trembling servants, heading directly for the large doors that exited into the courtyard. Before she disappeared into her private quarters to find out why she could suddenly heal herself, she needed to make sure that her growing army was properly motivated. Outside, several new recruits were being trained and she made a beeline for their recently promoted captain. He caught her subtle look that told him not to reveal her presence and watched for a moment as he explained the finer points of using a shield. Though patient and firm, his pallor darkened as he was forced to remind the recruit that holding the shield didn’t mean he should forget to also hold his sword.

Having seen enough, the queen stalked up behind the lad, who was barely out of his teens, and leant close to his ear. In her most seductive voice, she whispered, “You will need to keep your weapon _up_ if it is to be of any use to me.” Something between a cackle and a hiss of amusement escaped her lips and she waited for him to scramble back to the ranks before stretching to her full height and addressing them all. “You have all been chosen to fill the ranks in my army!” she bellowed over their heads, aware but uncaring of their feelings on the matter. “Impress me, and your families will be well taken care of!” She let that thought sink in before her voice twisted into something dangerous. Losing no volume, she added, “Disappoint me, and they will likely starve in the hedgerows.”

“Captain,” she said silkily as she turned her attention to the man who had escaped the disaster at the barrier. “See that they are ready for battle in three moons. If you need more men, send a recruitment party to the villages further out.”

With a fist against his chest and a short bow, he acquiesced. “Yes, your majesty.”

Three moons marked the limit of how long she was prepared to wait before renewing her efforts to trample over Snow’s happiness. There was no plan yet and her order to the captain had been a spur of the moment thought, but it suited her regardless. She would find a way to the insipid White queen, or else she would force her nemesis to come to her. If there was one thing the spoiled brat was good at, it was being predictable.

Back inside the keep, Regina retreated to her library and slid behind her desk. There were many potions she could brew to test for trace magics. She’d already discovered that the reason she couldn’t approach Snow’s castle was because of a spell specific to her. After watching the peasant pass unharmed across the barrier, she’d started to accumulate theories, and then once she knew that _she_ was the target of that magic, she began to wonder how significant that fact was. Perhaps it wasn’t merely a matter of malicious intent that kept her knights from moving forward. Perhaps the reason they failed was because she’d taken their hearts.

That was why she was now building a new army. She wouldn’t have their hearts, but she would still demand their loyalty, and if she was right, they would be able to cross onto Snow and Charming’s land unhindered by magical blockades. As soon as the common folk started to complain of soldiers decimating their crops and burning their homes, Snow White would crack and either lift the spell or else try to bargain with Regina.

The Evil Queen very much hoped it would be the latter. Especially if this new ability of hers to heal came with a lifetime guarantee.

Deciding that a potion was not yet needed, the jaded queen reached into her desk drawer and removed a small but razor-sharp knife. Taking no time to reconsider her decision, she stabbed it through her left hand. Pain seared along her arm and she cried out in agony. Biting her tongue, she wrenched the knife back and released it to clatter on the stone tile floor. As her body’s initial shock began to wear off, Regina concentrated on her breathing; she neither wanted to throw up nor pass out. It was moments like these when she had to laugh at all the lessons that had taught her to bear such pain. Was this what her mother had in mind all those years ago?

When dark spots no longer swam in front of her eyes, she peered down at the hole in her hand and stared in wonder. It still hurt, but the pain was ebbing and the flesh knitting back together, stemming the flow of blood.

“Well, well, my dear Snow,” she laughed to herself. “What have you done?”

* * * * *

**Four Months**

Glass unicorns sparkled in the sunlight from the open window. Beside a crib fit for her princess, Queen Snow rocked with her baby against her chest and drank in the scent of Emma’s skin. She’d heard women in her father’s castle talk about baby-smell and how it made most of them long to have their own in their arms. She’d thought it silly at the time, but now it made complete sense. While there were baby-related smells that definitely did not engender one to immediately go out and reproduce, there was something undeniably enticing and addictive about their natural, clean scent.

Many weeks had passed since she’d made a deal to banish Regina from her lands, and while she still couldn’t help looking over her shoulder to check that her step-mother was not lurking, poised to strike, she counted it a victory. Emma had arrived a little early – just two days after the pregnant queen asked for help from the shadowy creature – but, while the birth had been no picnic, she’d had her baby without interference from the Evil Queen and had fallen asleep every night with her husband and child by her side.

Once she’d finished feeding, Emma fell straight to sleep. At this point, Snow would normally just sit and rock, letting the child sleep in her arms, but today she had itchy feet and needed to walk around to ease it off. Nodding to the matron, who was always on hand to help the new mother, she lowered her baby into the crib and promised not to be away for long.

In the hallway, she wrapped her shawl tighter around her and hesitated as she wondered where she should go. With a whole castle to wander around as much as her heart desired and so many wonderful things to do and see, she often found that she was spoiled for choice. In the end, her desire to see her husband and check on the running of the kingdom took priority and she made her way down the hallway to the spiralling staircase. It led her to the ground floor and eventually to the group of expansive rooms where they conducted business with their neighbouring royals and land owners. The sound of David’s voice drew her to the smaller room and she nodded politely to the guard as he opened the door for her.

“Snow!” Charming called to her as he jumped from his seat at the head of the table.

Several heads turned and the people around the table stood as the queen entered. A somewhat awkward silence descended upon the room while they waited for her to take her seat and one or two offered an apologetic grimace when she took in their faces and frowned at the assembly.

“What is going on?” she asked slowly. “Who called this meeting?”

David sank into the seat next to his wife and tried not to slump. “We’ve just had word from the outskirts of the kingdom; Regina’s forces are razing the fields and sacking the villages,” he told her solemnly.

“What? But she can’t enter our land,” Snow blurted. “Her knights couldn’t cross the barrier.”

The clearing of someone’s throat caught the monarchs’ attention and they turned to a wizened man who had once decorated Leopold’s court. “Begging your pardon, Queen Snow,” he simpered. “But Regina has proved time and again that she is a resourceful and driven woman. I remember when she used to attend your father on his visits to George’s kingdom…”

“My Lord,” a sharp voice interrupted. “We have no time to reminisce. The forces attacking the villages do not include her or her black knights. They are men and women of her own subjects. Our intelligence tells us that she has been training them since you stopped her from casting the dark curse.”

“Why are we only hearing about this now?” the queen demanded. Her heart had begun hammering in her chest at the mention of the Evil Queen, but what started as fear quickly turned to anger. As much anger as Snow White ever managed to express anyway.

A wave of awkward looks passed around the room. “Your majesty, you assured us that the Evil Queen could not step foot onto our lands. Runners were sent when the army was spotted, but very little was gleaned from the Queen’s frightened subjects.”

Snow huffed her annoyance, her anger deflating as she had no come back for the unfortunate observation. “We must send help. My lords, anything you can spare will be gratefully received,” she added in her best forthright tone.

Assurances ran quickly around the room, settling the young queen’s mind that she was not alone. However, she did not see the raised eyebrows exchanged or hear the mutters of complaint later as the men were escorted to their carriages. Back in the meeting room, now that they were alone, the royal couple began to bicker. Charming’s ‘I told you so’s’ did little to endear him to his wife and for several minutes, they exchanged recriminations, until Snow’s voice rose so high that the ex-shepherd began to wince.

“Stop! Stop!” he bellowed over the noise, relief filling him when all fell quiet. Once calloused hands rubbed over his tired face and he took a moment to lean against the table and gather his thoughts. “We’re giving her what she wants, Snow,” he told her in a much softer voice. “She’s winning. And not because she’s more powerful or more determined.”

“We’re making it easy for her,” she agreed and sighed heavily.

David considered his wife’s features for a moment or two before a slow smile tugged at his mouth. He really did love her, so much, and times like this – when she could be unreasonable and stubborn – just proved to him how much. “Look, we’re both tired from being up with Emma most of the night. We will send aid, as we always do. I will lead some men to meet this army and deal with them. We’ll set up some outposts and have regular patrols in the area for as long as it takes. We won’t give up now.”

“I want to come with you,” Snow insisted, even as she knew it was not possible – at least, not without taking her daughter along for the ride.

Charming regarded her evenly. He couldn’t deny that she was a good fighter and he had always been proud to stand by her side in any battle but… “I thought you didn’t want Emma to have a wet-nurse.”

“I don’t,” the queen replied defensively. She let the words hang in the air and stewed in her irritation for a few seconds longer than necessary. An expulsion of air escaped in a huff. “I can’t leave Emma, and I can’t take her,” she agreed, a little more subdued as her husband rounded the table. “I hate being left behind. This is my fight.”

“I know.” Charming wrapped his arms around her frame and pulled her closer. “You know I want you there too, but it’s just not practical right now. That’s no one’s fault. Emma needs you here.”

* * * * *

**Five Months**

The Evil Queen sat high on her throne, a more satisfied expression marking her features than when she’d had news of the new princess. Her plan was unfolding nicely. Snow’s attempts to protect her people from Regina’s army were lacking and the villagers were beginning to flee, leaving their burnt homes for refuge in neighbouring lands. Since she couldn’t use her magic directly against Snow, the dark sorceress had taken to creating phantoms of her soldiers to throw the Charmings off track as she directed her attacks at different points along the barrier. Chaos had become her entertainment and she wielded her weapon as well as any ball of fire.

There was something satisfying about spending all hours standing around her map of The Enchanted Forest and directing troops to strategic points around Snow’s kingdom. It reminded her of a game she had used to play with her father – one of the only pastimes her mother had approved of – and though he had not been a master of tactics, she had learned enough to give her an advantage. With practise, she could be nigh on unstoppable.

Currently, there were other trivialities to attend to and she found herself listening to the petty complaints of the remaining lords who still held titles. After Leopold’s vast kingdom was sliced in two by her feud with his daughter, many of the land owners had tried to curry favour with their new queen, but she had little patience for them. Of those who she recalled from her time decorating the king’s arm, only the few who had not looked upon her with lecherous eyes had been allowed to keep their status. They quickly discovered that her patience didn’t stretch far though and they were learning to keep their requests brief.

“The taxes are non-negotiable,” Regina answered with disinterest and waved her hand to show that she was finished.

The man standing before the throne turned red and opened his mouth to protest, but guards were already herding him back into the crowd. Half a dozen others tried their luck, mostly with petitioning the crown, in various ways, to give them more money. Regina had heard it all before and only allowed them to air their grievances because she knew that the alternative was dangerous. If they became complacent and either forgot how afraid of her they were or thought, because they’d not seen her outside of the castle for a while, that she was incapable of ruling, they would do something stupid, like trying to make deals with other monarchs without her consent.

It was nearing time for the money grubbers to leave and the queen clenched her teeth in annoyance as she tried not to lose her temper in the last few minutes. These were the necessary duties that she forced herself to observe, but knowing that she had to see to them didn’t mean that she found any joy in the task and each time, she counted the heartbeats until it was over. Her dark gaze swept the room looking for her steward. She’d had enough of these fools and needed them all to leave her to her plotting, but before she could find him, she spotted a figure lurking in the back and something about the way it moved caught her attention. The familiar bulge under the back of a cloak and rising of a bow between shoulders in the crowd gave the would-be assassin’s intention away and, for a single heartbeat, Regina actually feared for her life.

But then she remembered her experiment with the knife and suddenly, all she saw was an opportunity to stare death in the face… and laugh.

Pretending not to notice anything out of place, she returned to looking for her steward, her hand half rose to draw his attention when the twang of string and displacement of air signalled the arrow loosing. The thud of the projectile into her chest and her pained gasp were the only sounds in the room for a few, tense seconds, before frantic screams and angry shouts filled the air.

The Evil Queen’s wide eyes turned to the shaft protruding from between her breasts and stared at it. She’d expected it to hurt, but this was altogether more excruciating than anything else she’d felt before… except perhaps… _No, don’t think about that!_ she screamed at herself in anger. Even if she didn’t want to though, the thoughts came anyway; she would gladly be shot a thousand times to have Daniel back in her arms.

The noise began to ebb away as a scuffle at the back of the room bore fruit and the hooded figure was dragged forward. Half a dozen attendants had surged forward to check on the queen but none of them appeared to know what to do next. It was as if the room held its breath, waiting to see whether the Evil Queen was defeated at last.

_They wish,_ rose that inner voice again.

Perhaps it was the severity of the pain, or the fact that she could still feel every little movement inside her chest as she breathed, but the absurdity of the situation hit Regina after a while and a hoarse chuckle began to wrack her body. It hurt. Worse than before, it hurt. But in a way, she found it comforting – confirmation that she was still alive, could still feel something. It would need to come out though – the arrow – and one of these sycophants was going to have to snap off the arrow head at the back. That meant she had to move. Teeth gritted for an entirely new reason now, the queen pulled herself to the edge of her seat and glared at the guard hovering by her side.

“Snap off the head,” she managed to growl before narrowing in on the spectators.

Her eyes found her attacker and a terrifying smile showed all her blood-stained teeth. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry out and focussed all her energy on penetrating his mind as the guard fumbled around behind her and eventually found his grip beneath the blood. She jerked with the force he needed to break the shaft and for several seconds, concentrated on drawing air through her nose. Once she felt like she could move without moaning in pain, she brought her own hands up to the part of the arrow which stuck straight out from the top of her corset. Long fingers wrapped around it and, slowly, she began to pull it out.

If she had ever doubted the power of her image before, she didn’t now. Every eye in the room watched in morbid fascination as their dark queen pulled an arrow from her own chest without once acknowledging the pain that she must have felt. The only evidence she gave them was in the tightening of her face, the occasional grunt and the shallowness of her breathing. But all of that was hidden beneath the rage that she aimed at her prisoner. When the last of the arrow fell from the tiny hole in her body, she breathed a little deeper and closed her eyes.

Like with the knife wound in her hand, she could feel the injured parts of her body putting themselves back together again. The pain seemed to last an annoyingly long amount of time, but it actually didn’t take long at all before the tension around her face ebbed and her eyes opened to fall upon the assassin with her trademark smirk. A rush of euphoria flowed through her and she took a moment to play with the bloodied, broken arrow. With a wave of her hand, all traces of blood disappeared from her clothes and skin, leaving behind a healthy, pink glow. The room had fallen eerily silent and she basked in the awe and fear that followed. The crowd dared not move, waiting on tenterhooks to see what the Evil Queen would do now. She was prone to losing her temper over the smallest of annoyances in her day, so how would she react to being shot?

“Bring him to me,” she spoke at last, and chuckled to herself as her guards jumped to obey. She already had her suspicions about who had dared to make an attempt on her life, but she wanted to be sure and she wanted him to feel her wrath close up. She curled her finger in a ‘come hither’ motion until the hooded figure was in touching distance. “Oh, Huntsman,” she pouted and reached for his chin with clawed fingers, forcing his eyes to meet hers and toppling the hood from his head. “I’m disappointed. I thought we were friends.”

“You took advantage of me,” he spat as best he could with her nails digging into his jaw. He was still reeling from what he’d seen and beginning to worry about what reprisals would arise as a consequence of his foolish risk. Except, it hadn’t been foolish really, had it? He’d succeeded. He couldn’t possibly have known that the witch couldn’t be killed.

“My dear boy, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it…” Her gaze travelled the length of his body, lingering on the seam of his rough-hewn trousers. “…While it lasted.” She shoved him away and watched as her guards automatically pushed him to his knees. Retaking her seat with her usual relaxed indifference, she observed the rugged man and carefully considered his fate. “If anyone is to be the injured party here, it’s me. You have not performed adequately in any of the tasks I gave you, and now you have failed your new mistress too. Tut tut.”

“Queen Snow didn’t send me here,” he protested, worrying again what his reckless decision had cost the young monarch.

Regina scoffed derisively. “Of course not. She lacks the courage to be so bold, preferring instead to call fairies and forest dwellers to her cause.” Stroking the newly sewn flesh in her chest, she smirked to herself. “Her latest attempts – this curse – may have temporarily inconvenienced me, but I think I am actually grateful. Now I have all of the time in the world to get my revenge on her, and there’s nothing she can do to stop me!” Her cackle grated through the huntsman and he winced. “Bring him,” she ordered her guards and stood before striding across to a door at the far end of the room.

A corridor led them on a long walk, until she held up a hand and told them to wait. In her vault, she found the box with the Huntsman’s heart in it and slid the lid open. It went against everything she valued about exerting power over others, but there was no way around it if she wanted Snow to hear the assassin’s account first hand. With the glowing organ removed from its box, she returned to where she had left her captive and stood over him menacingly.

“I had planned on killing you… slowly,” she tormented him and gave his heart a slight squeeze to prove her point. His knees buckled and when he recovered, she shoved it non-too-gently back into his chest. “But I find I’m in good spirits today. You may return to your pathetic excuse for a queen and tell her what you tried to do. You will tell her in great detail, being sure not to forget the most important fact: I cannot be killed and I will not stop until I have her heart.”

It didn’t take long to clear the throne room as all of the morning’s attendants were more than eager to leave with their lives intact. It would take less than a day before news of the miraculous events reached the far corners of her kingdom and less than a week before every ruler in The Enchanted Forest heard about the Evil Queen’s new power. Anyone who had tentatively begun to plot her downfall paused and reconsidered, most giving up their plans entirely in favour of living.

Regina waved off any concern for her well-being and retreated to her war room. She rolled her eyes as her father’s shuffling footsteps caught up with her but she allowed his presence, tolerated it as she always did, her mind ever conflicted over her love for the old fool. He was a fool to love her still and a fool to think that he could change her.

“Regina,” his awed voice crept up behind her. “You cannot die? How is this possible?”

“It appears that I am impervious to mortal wounds,” she replied as she circled the giant map in the centre of the room and began to think where she might best move her troops next.

Once the Huntsman told Snow of what he saw today, the White queen would be frantic for a short while, her instinct being to fight back the only way she knew how – with the help of her fairy friend and the other forest misfits. How could she use that to her advantage? Snow might stretch her forces thinly to anticipate an attack from any direction, but what wouldn’t she expect?

The queen’s father cleared his throat, hoping that his daughter might look at him when she spoke to him, but she rarely did… unless she was particularly irritated by what he had to say. It was a habit she’d picked up from her mother and he regretted that he’d not had the ability to stand up to the sadistic woman when their girl was young and innocent. “You don’t appear to be surprised by this newfound ability.”

“I am not. I do not have the time or patience to explain, but suffice it to say that whatever Snow did to me to prevent my entering her kingdom, it had an unexpected side effect. I intend to use that to my advantage.” She reached for a carved, wooden figurine and hovered with it over the village that she’d attacked just the day before. “She has been one step behind this entire time and I will not allow her to make any headway… But perhaps she needs to think that she has.”

Her father faded into the background as her brain worked overtime to plan out every likely deviation that might arise from her next move. She wanted to lull her former step-daughter into a false sense of security and capitalise on the girl’s ingrained belief that righteousness, hope and love, above all else, would automatically make them triumphant. How many times could she shatter that belief before the seemingly endless supply withered away – just like her own world had been torn from her?

* * * * *

The Huntsman stood in a corner of the council meeting room feeling very out of place. While he’d wanted to do anything but follow the orders of the Evil Queen, he felt that he had a duty to Snow White to let her know what had happened. He’d gone back to the dark castle with every intention of killing the sorceress and he didn’t think the next person who tried would walk away from the encounter as he had. He’d known that his time was limited. After escaping her clutches a little over a week ago, he knew that it wouldn’t be long before she used her thrall and called him back. The element of surprise had hinged on him acting quickly, but now he wished he hadn’t.

Naturally, what he’d told the royal couple had caused considerable panic, to the point where they’d felt that the entire High Council needed to meet as soon as possible. That’s why he found himself now, looking across at a table surrounded only by Queen Snow’s most trusted friends and advisors, and feeling like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“Blu, is there nothing you can do?” Snow pleaded, her voice hitting a new frantic pitch.

“Snow,” the fairy answered in her most patient and condescending tone. “Fairy magic doesn’t work that way. I’m _your_ fairy godmother. I cannot do anything to stop the Evil Queen.”

“But Emma is _my_ child,” the queen all but whined.

“Which is why, when you were expecting, I advised you about using the wardrobe to travel safely to the land without magic.” Blu was aware of all the eyes of the room watching her but she kept a carefully sympathetic expression.

“So…” Snow frowned as she thought this information through. “You could only help Emma then because she was still part of me?”

“Of course,” Blu answered, hoping that her expression was honest enough. She didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty details, knowing that it wouldn’t help the good queen to accept that fairies couldn’t help her now. “It was the only way to thwart the Evil Queen’s plan… at the time.”

“And now she’s immortal!” Grumpy growled from further down the table.

“Is she really?” the queen addressed the fairy again, trusting her judgement implicitly.

Blu hesitated. “I don’t know much about the creature that you dealt with,” she admonished slightly. She was still annoyed that Snow had sought help elsewhere, regardless of the fact that her aid was limited. “But I suspect that her ability to heal mortal wounds is temporary.”

“Until when?” David chimed in.

Again, the fairy paused to think and delay the reaction she knew would come from her information. “How is any curse broken?”

Granny snorted and collapsed back in her chair after having leant forward to show her interest. “That’s as good as saying that she’s immortal.”

“Yeah,” Grumpy added. “Who’s gonna love the Evil Queen?”

“Goodness,” Snow muttered, mostly to herself. “We cannot allow her to terrorise the villagers indefinitely. It’s me she’s after and I’m the one who foiled her plans to curse everyone.” She gazed forlornly around at the council and tried to plead her case. “I just wanted to save my family and stop her from destroying everyone’s happiness.”

“We know, Snow,” Charming comforted his wife; he hated to see her so upset. “No one’s blaming you for what’s happening.”

“…Yet,” Red’s voice rose from next to her granny.

“What do you mean?” the queen responded; her eyes wide.

The council exchanged guilty looks but nobody seemed to want to take up the gauntlet, so it was passed back to the wolf. “Many of the villagers have lost their homes and their livelihoods with no idea when or if the attacks will ever end. They need someone to blame, Snow and since your curse provoked the Evil Queen into these raids, you’re the obvious target.”

“I didn’t know that it would make her invulnerable,” she insisted defensively. “And it wasn’t _my_ curse.”

“But you requested it, dear,” Granny added, backing up her granddaughter.

“What matters now,” Jiminy interrupted the tense moment as he hopped into the middle of the table, “is finding a way to stop or somehow reason with her.”

“Reason with the _Evil Queen_!?” Grumpy blurted with a loud snort.

“Perhaps bargain with her then,” the cricket answered back.

“It’s worth thinking about,” the king mediated between the polar opposite views.

“We do have what she wants,” Snow reminded them nervously. “We have the Dark One.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew that it was a bad idea, but that was how her mind worked – extreme solutions from powerful, magical creatures was her knee-jerk reaction to impossible situations. It rarely occurred to her to differentiate between the sources. Not until after the fact in any case.

David all but sighed without actually expelling any breath. “Snow, we talked about this; the Dark One only helps himself.”

“But he might know something that Blu doesn’t,” the queen reasoned.

“Which he won’t share with us without demanding to make a deal,” David countered.

“What if we let the Evil Queen _think_ we’re letting her see the Dark One and we lead her into a trap?” Grumpy grinned, one fist punching hard into the other. His fellow dwarves, who were all gathered behind him, shook their heads at the idea. “You think of something then!” he snapped and proceeded to sulk.

Granny cleared her throat and waited until she had everyone’s attention. “We need to think carefully about a long-term solution and not make any rash decisions. In the meantime, we have some ideas about how to lessen the damage felt by the villages.”

Snow seemed to hesitate for a moment before reason penetrated her thoughts. “Yes,” she responded; her voice subdued. “Yes, of course. What do you have in mind…?”

Another hour passed before the meeting came to an end and the council parted company. The Huntsman begged to be allowed to join the werewolves with their part of the defensive strategy and was given the monarchs’ blessing, along with their thanks. Once alone, the king hugged his queen close and whispered reassurances in her ear.

Snow was not to be placated so easily though; her fear of her step-mother’s wrath made her frantic with worry for her daughter. Part of her brain recalled that Emma was safely surrounded by castle walls and guards while their subjects were defenceless, but she didn’t have the presence of mind to listen too closely. She’d never expected her reign to be like this. Her parents had ruled during relatively peaceful times, the only black spots during their time on the throne were their untimely deaths. But while they’d been alive, they’d given her the impression that her reign would be just as passive. She envisioned herself and her handsome husband, riding across the land, visiting the people, who were always ready with a gift and a smile for their benevolent queen.

Her reality was a far cry from that fantasy and the petulant child inside her complained often about how unfair it was that her dream was taken away from her.

She and Charming returned to their bedroom and looked in on their daughter, who was just beginning to fuss in the matron’s arms. Taking Emma back to their room, Snow continued to argue her case for going to talk to Rumpelstiltskin. In hushed voices, they talked in circles until they were both too tired to continue and agreed to sleep on the issue.

While David eventually slept, his wife continued to toss and turn, her thoughts a jumble of conflicting feelings and ideas. She’d promised not to make any more life-altering decisions without Charming’s knowledge, but it was hard to comply when she felt that she was the ultimate authority and her duty as queen demanded that she seek immediate help for her people. Still, her promise to him kept her in bed, where she slept in fits between her own insomnia and her daughter’s feeding schedule.

* * * * *

**Six Months**

Regina cursed every rut and bump in the road as her carriage rushed along. She despised travelling in this fashion but it was expected of her and some of her mother’s lessons on propriety, she reluctantly agreed, were necessary to separate her from the common pedestrians. If she rode around as she’d preferred to as a girl, they would see her in a different light. They might lose their deference and begin to think that they could take liberties without fear of reprisal. With a title like ‘The Evil Queen’, she couldn’t afford to be seen as an equal.

That image was never more important than today. Her former step-daughter had finally cracked and requested a meeting on neutral ground to discuss their grievances and potential reparations. The only reparation Regina was interested in was Snow’s heart on a platter, but she knew that the probability of that happening was slim. Still, she was intrigued enough to agree to the meeting, promising not to flambe either the White Queen or her Prince Charming today.

The change of pace was welcome even if she did have to travel this way. She’d become so adept at fooling Snow’s troops with her diversions and battle tactics that even winning was beginning to bore her. A chance to gloat and deride Snow was just what she needed to break up the doldrums.

She amused herself on the journey by trying to imagine what Snow had in mind to offer as a truce. Could there be anything more satisfying than an enemy’s heart in your hand? That moment when she could look upon Snow White and know that the brat had received her just desserts – that moment was priceless, so what did Snow have exactly that she thought could compare? Or was the entire endeavour a ruse? Had the pure-as-driven-snow queen finally grown a backbone and plotted, under a banner of truce, to capture or even kill her tormentor? Regina didn’t think she had it in her, but she had made contingencies regardless. As had happened with the Huntsman, other fools might try to capitalise on the day.

It wasn’t long before she felt the carriage begin to slow and peered out of the window to watch their approach. In the distance stood a small but elegant tent, big enough perhaps in which a dozen people could stand and move around comfortably. Their guards would wait outside, so there would be more than enough room for Snow to cower behind her prince if the urge struck her. Retreating back inside her carriage, she summoned her mask and by the time the wheels rumbled to a stop and her footman pulled the door open, she made sure it was firmly in place.

Dark eyes, rimmed with heavy make-up, narrowed with irritation as a familiar, whining tone drifted from the tent and assaulted her ears. For years, that voice had fluttered around her, tormenting her to the point of madness. It brought back the memories of isolation and helplessness and her fingers twitched with the effort not to conjure a fireball and hurl it at the tent. She willed patience into her veins and surged forward, moving with an ever-clinging air of power and unpredictability.

The tent flap parted as if of its own volition and halted Snow and Charming in the middle of their renewed bickering. They turned to the opening, eyes squinting as the space was temporarily flooded with light, and both tensed as they recognised the sharp outline of the Evil Queen. Dressed in her usual elaborate, high-collar black, her silhouette did its job of creating unease in her enemies.

“Well, isn’t this cosy,” the Evil Queen grinned maniacally. Her gaze swept the area, taking in the sparse amenities – a single table in the centre of the space and three stools that were not likely to be used. On the table stood a crystal ball, but she ignored this for now. “You have outdone yourself, dear.”

“Regina,” Snow greeted her tormentor. “Thank you for joining us,” she added for the sake of politeness and to hopefully start the meeting off without risk of injury.

“I was bored, dear,” the Evil Queen explained with an air of disinterest. “Our little skirmishes recently have been uninspiring; your people lack discipline; you lack the imagination and resolve to offer a challenge, and it’s becoming tedious.” She wandered around the small space, pretending to inspect the quality of the fabric covering them and smiling to herself as she noticed Snow’s frustration and indignation from the corner of her eye. She stopped and turned an impassive expression on the couple. “Not that I will stop of course. I will get my revenge, Snow White.”

Snow shuddered internally and felt her resolve slip. After many hours of discussion with her husband, they’d finally agreed to talk to the Dark One together. His calm demeanour made them suspicious; they had run out of good options and he knew it. People only sought out Rumpelstiltskin’s help when they were desperate and he relied on that fact to make them agree to his self-interested deals. They volleyed pleas and threats back and forth for some time before the royal couple reluctantly asked the imp’s price and, as expected, the answer was not what they wanted to hear.

“So, why am I here?” the sorceress asked. “Not for a tea party I imagine.”

Snow swallowed and felt her insides tighten. Every molecule of her being wanted to be anywhere else. There were two possible outcomes from their meeting today and neither one filled her with joy. Would death be so bad if David and Emma were allowed to live? If she thought for a moment that Regina would stop her destructive rampage, would actually find satisfaction in killing her, then she could seriously consider giving herself up, but as her friends had all agreed, the queen was too far gone for victory to make her a benevolent ruler. Without Snow, they all believed that the Evil Queen would find a new target upon whom she could direct her rage. So then, sacrificing herself was not an option and neither was running away again. The choices she had left were hardly inspiring, but that was why she’d called this meeting, to discuss how they would move forward. As monarch, she had a duty to her people, and the Dark One’s demands offered the least bloodshed for everyone.

“You want revenge, on me,” Snow began softly, unaware of how much her placid nature grated on her former step-mother’s nerves. “And we want peace for our people and our family.”

“I think that you will find those things are mutually exclusive,” the Evil Queen replied; unamused by the idea that Snow thought she deserved to live in peace.

“Perhaps not,” Charming challenged.

Until now, he’d let his wife take charge, but he had been twitching to defend his true love and the effort to stand stoically by showed in his pugnacious expression. He knew that Snow could take care of herself in most situations – she had given him the run around and survived on the run from her step-mother after all – but the instinct to jump to her defence did not just vanish with that knowledge. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword and he glared at the dark witch when she looked him over and laughed.

“It speaks!” she exclaimed in mock surprise. “And here I thought he was just a pretty face with the weathered body of a common labourer.” Turning back to her adversary, she added, “You didn’t set the bar very high, did you, dear?”

Snow bristled at the implied insult. “A shepherd isn’t much different from a stable hand,” she blurted in retaliation. A name sat on the tip of her tongue; the ‘D’ half formed before the Evil Queen’s hand shot into the air and she felt her throat constrict to the point of collapse.

“You dare!” Regina hissed, her fury consuming her. “Say his name and I will end you before you can blink,” she threatened, not the least bit concerned for the blade that now hung in the air from the end of Charming’s arm. Her mind twitched with the desire to twist her magic around that pale neck and end the girl once and for all, but something deep inside made her hesitate. Revenge had become her life; what would she do without it? Despite that distant thought, she knew that she would follow through on her threat. To hear her beloved’s name on those rose-red lips would put the final nail in the coffin and tip her completely over the edge. “Do I make myself clear?”

Snow nodded as best she could before she found herself on the floor, gasping for breath. She’d crossed a line. Every sensible thought told her how foolish she was to let the other queen rile her, but even she was surprised by what she’d almost said. “I understand,” she croaked and she allowed David to help her off the floor. “I…” she bit back her apology, knowing that it wouldn’t be appreciated or accepted. “I did not ask you here to fight.”

“As amusing as that would be,” the sorceress spat, her anger still evident.

“We brought the Dark One with us,” Snow told the Evil Queen, before the situation could deteriorate any further. This seemed to finally throw the sorceress off her train of thought and she stared at Snow in disbelief.

“The Dark One does not sit quietly by, waiting to be summoned,” Regina observed. “How exactly have you brought him with you?” Her gaze wavered then and centred on the object on the table. “Ah, I see. You have brought the ability to speak with him from where he rots in your mines.”

“Yes,” Snow replied readily. “We could not risk actually releasing him until we were sure that you were interested in the deal.”

Regina looked upon the younger queen with an expression that bordered on pity. “And you were so close to sounding like you knew what you were getting yourself into. You have made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin? I suppose I ought to congratulate myself for making you so desperate,” she crowed.

“We haven’t made a deal yet,” David interjected. “You would have to agree to our terms first.”

“Why would I do that? I’m winning!” she gloated. “What is in this deal for me?”

The younger queen stepped closer to the table and placed her hand on the crystal globe. It glowed brighter until a scaly face appeared and giggled with delight at seeing all of their faces. Rumpelstiltskin clapped and bowed mockingly as his eyes set upon Snow and Charming, “Your majesties!” Giggling some more, he turned and recoiled dramatically at the sight of his former pupil. “Ahh, the Evil Queen!”

Regina rolled her eyes and allowed the imp to play out his little game. He had apparently been starved of attention for too long and a tiny part of her empathised. “Rumpel. I am told that you have a deal to make with these two idiots and that, somehow, I am involved. Explain.”

“Not much for the floor-show today are we, your evilness?” he teased. “Very well, hem-hem…” he cleared his throat and his voice dropped an octave. “The Evil Queen doth desire the heart of Snow White. Snow White and her charming prince doth desire peace in the realm and lots of disgustingly fluffy, cutesy, lovey-dovey things,” he announced, trailing off while wiping his hands as if they were contaminated. As he continued, his tone wavered with dramatic effect. After being imprisoned for months, he was determined to make the most of his audience’s undivided attention. Both hands gestured wildly to punctuate his words. “Rumpelstiltskin…! that’s me, dears… doth desire his dark curse and has devised a solution to benefit all.”

Regina waited a beat and sighed. “Ex-plain,” she repeated slowly.

Rumpel stuck his tongue out. “Party pooper… Very well. For my curse to take everyone to the land without magic, as I assumed our lovely villainess would want, it required the heart of the thing she loved most. Horses not applicable,” he added admonishingly, chuckling at the dark look that fell over Regina’s face. “As that is no longer an option, I have tweaked it, shall we say, and in order to transport a single person… me… I require something a little more symbolic.” He paused to check that they were keeping up but when the Evil Queen opened her mouth to respond, he cut her off. “Snow White will sacrifice the heart of the one she loves most… to the Evil Queen. I will say ta-ta and hope never to see your horrible faces again. Do we have a deal?”

Regina sneered and eyed the couple. “What would I want with the shepherd’s heart?” she asked the imp.

“Not that lummox! The princess,” he simpered, his eyes glued to her expression as he savoured her reaction.

The Evil Queen couldn’t quite decide whether to be intrigued or horrified by this turn of events. Snow really had slipped off her pedestal. “You are giving me your child?” she asked in disbelief.

Rumpel snorted a laugh. “Her _heart_ your majesty. Keep up.”

Still Regina continued to stare at the young queen. She had a feeling that they hadn’t quite told her the entire story yet, but her interest was definitely piqued. As horrible as it was, she couldn’t deny that she liked the idea of Snow losing someone she loved dearly. “I will agree to nothing until you explain the terms of this deal.” She’d been on the wrong end of the Dark One’s verbal contracts too many times, but since Snow was the one requesting help, the brat would take the brunt of any fallout. It didn’t hurt to be cautious though.

Wide eyes stared at the dark sorceress as Snow swallowed a sob. What was she doing? There had to be a better way than this! But she’d looked at the situation from every conceivable angle and nothing guaranteed peace between their kingdom’s like this would, if the Evil Queen agreed to it. Heirs were often betrothed to unite bloodlines and prevent wars. Was this any different? No matter how logical it sounded in her mind, she couldn’t manage to actually say the words aloud.

“Snow?” Charming asked as he hovered by his wife’s side and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We don’t have to go through with this if you want to change your mind.” He hated the idea too. His opinion had been heavily in favour of running away with Emma. Perhaps locating a magic bean and finding this ‘land without magic’ themselves, where they could live in peace with their daughter. But being royalty had beaten them time and again. They had a duty to protect the people as well as their family and at least this way, they would be able to enjoy raising Emma in peace, in their home, where she would grow up a princess.

Though the Evil Queen had her reserves about dealing with Rumpel again, she was thoroughly enjoying the emotional agony that appeared to be gripping Snow White. If this was the prize for agreeing to this deal, she was all for it. “Some of us have battles to plan, dear. Do hurry up,” she goaded, ignoring the weak glare Charming threw at her.

“In exchange for your word that you will no longer attack any of our villages,” the White queen finally began. “… We are offering Emma’s hand in marriage – when she comes of age. You will cease all hostilities and Emma will stay with us until her eighteenth birthday.”

“You were sixteen at your coming-of-age party. As was I,” Regina pressed, though she said it more to torture her enemy while her own thoughts whirred around this proposition.

_Marry Snow White’s child?_ her inner voice parroted. It would torment Snow for sure. Even if she was left in peace to raise her daughter and rule her kingdom, she would be forever conscious that each new day brought them closer to handing their child over to their enemy. It was a delicious thought and one that might very well sustain her for the next eighteen years. It wouldn’t end there though, would it? Once Emma was her wife, she could insinuate all manner of depravities that would drive her former step-daughter mad with guilt. A life sentence. Wasn’t that what she’d hoped for all along, that Snow would feel the depths of agony that had tormented her heart since Daniel’s death?

“Innocence given for innocence taken. Is that the idea, Snow?” she poked at that wound again. “Very well, I will consider your offer.” She turned to leave but paused at the sound of her name from the crystal ball. “Yes, Rumpel?”

“This is a one-time deal and the clock is ticking, dearie,” he warned her, desperation seeping into his wild eyes.

“You have waited this long,” she reminded him. “I will return in an hour,” she announced before disappeared through the tent flap.

Her legs carried her automatically to where her carriage and attendants waited on her. Instead of heading for the solitude of her private box though, she made her way to the lead horse. Waving a hand over her body, she changed from her intimidating Evil Queen dress into something equally impressive but more suited for riding. Her guard captain took the hint immediately and dismounted without a word from his queen. He held the reins as she expertly swung into the saddle and slid her feet into the stirrups, no longer caring what the commoners thought of her.

Unlike her black knights, her new personal guard wore a more refined version of a soldier’s uniform. Since she had stopped taking their hearts to control them, she found that she preferred to see her forces in the traditional style dress. Her design was still darker than anything seen in other kingdoms, but as she began directing her men to attack Snow’s army, she realised that practicality was just as important as aesthetics and dropped the faceless helmet in favour of better visibility and protection. As Snow’s soldiers fell and her forces dwindled, Regina’s remained strong. It was a sound strategy that had served her well and she refused to read anything else into it.

“Do you require an escort, your majesty?” he asked out of a sense of duty.

“No. Maintain a presence here and inform me on my return of anything out of the ordinary,” the queen replied. “I will ride out for an hour.”

“Understood, your majesty.” He bowed and stepped back from the horse as it was abruptly urged into action.

Regina cared little for what her guards might think as she brought the horse to a canter and then a full-on gallop before she was out of sight. She needed to think carefully before she agreed to anything that the Dark One had cooked up and yet she had already decided that she liked the deal. It was just the kind of twisted idea that she loved to torture Snow with. The thought of a lifetime of suffering for her enemy was so tempting that she struggled against the desire to turn her horse around and head straight back to the tent.

But that was why she had commandeered her captain’s horse. Riding at full tilt, with the wind whipping around her body and the feel of the powerful animal beneath her – it was the very thing she needed to clear her head and let her work out all of the angles.

Rumpelstiltskin’s interest in the matter was clear. He needed to cross over to another realm and, for whatever reason, he hadn’t simply acquired a bean to get him there. Perhaps it was just his sight of prophesy that had taken him down the path that led him to Regina. Or perhaps he just hadn’t wanted to leave The Enchanted Forest alone. Whatever his reasons before, he apparently thought that the dark curse was his best option and the only missing ingredient was a sacrificial heart. His jibe about Rocinante niggled at her insides. His meaning had been clear and it was the answer that she’d been looking for all those months ago when she had tried to cross the barrier and had thrown all of her knights against it. Ro was her best friend, but still just a horse. If she truly wanted to cast the dark curse herself, she only had one option and she had lost too much of her drive to rip out her father’s heart now.

No, if she truly wanted revenge on Snow White, this deal was her best shot.

The only thing that really gave her pause was the princess. The idea of marrying again didn’t bother her. What was one more person in the castle? They wouldn’t have to share a bed past the first night and, unlike with Leopold, _she_ would have control over the time they spent together.

She imagined Emma as a grown woman, picturing a vague figure of brown hair – a shade somewhere between Snow’s and David’s – and dressed in the typical princess garb. Would she be trembling beneath her wedding dress as Regina had? Would she be unable to eat because her stomach was twisted in knots? Would she drink too much wine just to numb her mind and body from what she had been told to expect on her wedding night?

Did it matter? Princesses were generally fodder for slobbering princes with their eyes on their parents’ throne and a misogynistic desire for a litter of sons. Snow’s ideals about true love wouldn’t last long when every bachelor of breeding age was knocking their door down. That was the life that awaited Emma once she came of age. Would marrying the Evil Queen really be worse than that?

_What if she does find true love though?_ a small, trampled voice asked. The dark, uncaring sorceress scoffed at the idea, but the thought stayed with her anyway – an incipient idea that appealed to the girl she’d been, once upon a time. There was no way that the two idiots would bar their child’s path to true love, so in the event that happened, she decided to stipulate an acceptable alternative.

Despite her pessimistic views on the prospects of women in a world dominated by men, she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of taking away Emma’s choice in the matter. Even if she had no intention of locking her up in a tower or parading her around like a pretty bauble, she made the most of her hour’s reprieve to consider the future from every conceivable angle; all the while fighting a mental battle between disparate halves of her own conscience.

When she returned to the tent an hour later, impeccably punctual, she cut straight to the point, “State your terms.”

“You-you’re agreeing to the deal?” Snow’s shocked voice exploded from her when she saw the confident expression on Regina’s face. She had been dreading and hoping for this answer, but mostly, she had expected the Evil Queen to hold them in suspense for longer before returning to the destruction of her land.

“If I agree to your terms, then yes.” She waited a beat and then sighed. “Honestly, Snow, I do have a kingdom to run; I do not have all day to wait around for your brain to pick up speed.”

“I-I, yes… Well, as I said before, you must give us your word that you will leave us and our people in peace and make no underhanded attempts to make life worse for anyone of the White kingdom.” She looked carefully at Regina to check that she understood.

“That is rather obvious. Carry on,” the Evil Queen prompted impatiently. In truth, she had nowhere else to be today, she simply enjoyed making the young queen uncomfortable. It amused her when Snow was angry and flustered.

“Emma will have a normal life with us. We will tell her about the betrothal when we feel that she is ready. You will not make any demands to see her before she turns eighteen.”

“And on the chance that we meet at some pompous, royal event that I am pressed to attend?”

Snow faltered, not having thought that Emma and Regina might meet by chance. She planned to keep her daughter close, but it wasn’t practical or fair to force the princess to be tethered to her mother at every moment of the day. She looked to her husband and he nodded, trusting that she would do her best to protect their daughter. “In that event, you will treat her as you do everyone, but you won’t be cruel to her.”

Regina considered this and shook her head. “No…” she answered thoughtfully. “I will not reveal our deal, that much I can promise, but other than that, I will do as I please.” She would not be dictated to in that fashion by Snow White of all people.

Biting her tongue, the younger queen acquiesced. “Fine. Once you are… married, you will not hurt her.”

The Evil Queen rolled her eyes. “So many demands, dear. Whether or not I hurt your precious Emma will depend entirely on how obedient she is.” At the hesitation on Snow’s face, she sighed dramatically. “She will be as comfortable as I was during my marriage, how does that suit you?”

A tight churning in her stomach caught Snow by surprise. Why didn’t she like the sound of that? Her step-mother had had every comfort a queen deserved as far as she could tell. Wasn’t the same good enough for Emma? “Alright. That will suffice.”

Regina’s features soured, but she couldn’t bring herself to explain why Snow was wrong to entrust her child to the Evil Queen under such terms. She had shielded her step-daughter not only for the child’s protection, but for her own dignity too. The last thing she had needed was the loose-lipped brat gossiping about her business everywhere. “Wonderful,” she commented; the sarcasm lost on her audience. “Have you finished or did you write a list?”

“One more thing,” Charming said as he intervened. “If Emma meets her true love, then you will withdraw your claim on her.”

Since the same situation had occurred to her, Regina was unsurprised by this demand and she was ready for it. “I assumed as much. In the event that Emma desires to go skipping off into the sunset, chasing dreams and true love’s kiss, you in turn will withdraw your claim on your throne.” She grinned at the twin expressions of shock before her – it was exactly as she had anticipated and it was delicious.

“You expect me to abdicate my throne… to you?” Snow asked haltingly.

Regina held her hands out as if there was nothing fairer than what she wanted. “If you want your daughter to experience what you have with the shepherd, then yes, that is what I expect.” She tilted her head as she considered which words to use to encourage Snow to agree. “If you like, I will also give you my word that I will not treat your subjects any different to mine… This is non-negotiable, Snow. After all, if Emma meets her true love, I get nothing out of this deal. You might no longer be queen, but you will have your family. Is that not enough?”

“And you won’t then start to hunt her down again?” Charming asked, his face lighting with hope.

Regina grinned and placed her hand on her heart. “I give you my word.” Snow deposed and the entire kingdom hers or alternatively, a bride to whom marriage would cause Snow eternal torment? Either scenario was agreeable.

The royal couple reached for each other subconsciously. This was it, the last option to drop this plan and try to think of something else to thwart Regina’s insistence on attacking their people. David squeezed his wife’s hand and they breathed a shared breath of finality. “If that is everything?”

Enjoying every part of Charming and Snow’s discomfort, Regina smiled brightly and clapped her hands together. “Well, let’s finalise this with the imp, shall we?”

Snow’s hand shook as she reached out to place it on the crystal globe. Her heart pounded in her chest and she wanted to run home and hold her baby. She wanted to hold Emma and apologise profusely for what they were choosing to take away from her future. She hoped deeply that her daughter could eventually forgive them.

Rumpel’s expression was mildly disgruntled when he reappeared before them, but when he saw the faces looking back at him, he grinned. “Are we all in agreement? I trust you have ironed out all of the nitty gritty details.”

“Yes, Rumpel, we have reached an agreement. Since I can’t make a house call to the mines, shall I host this meeting to finalise everything?” the Evil Queen asked with every appearance of geniality. At the sight of two nodding heads, she grinned, “Wonderful.”


	5. Malaise and Baby Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI - I know nothing about horses other than they're beautiful creatures and a small, terraced house is not nearly big enough in which to keep one.

**One Year**

Outside, the autumn, mid-day sun shone brightly amidst large, fluffy clouds, but only the thinnest shaft of light penetrated through to the Evil Queen’s bedroom. Silk sheets covered every inch of the body in the bed, creating an even darker cave within where Regina slept. It was not unusual for the queen to appear elsewhere in the castle only late into the afternoon, her stomach sometimes pulling her down to dinner where her father had insisted that they spend at least one meal a day together.

Sleeping had become her raison d’etre. Over six months, since officially ceasing all hostilities against Snow and her subjects, the Evil Queen had become something of a recluse. The buzz from signing the deal with Snow, Charming and the Dark One had lasted as long as it took for her to realise that she didn’t know what to do with all of the time she’d dedicated to persecuting her former step-daughter. It had been a culture shock and gradually, over the days and weeks, she had lost motivation.

Her war-room began to gather dust and cobwebs first. She continued to linger over the table for a week, imagining where she would send her troops, but once she realised that she couldn’t implement any of her plans, she stopped going into the room entirely. What started as one room became two and three, until she began to question the necessity of getting out of bed.

Servants were more than willing to bring food to her private rooms and leave it on a table, returning only to collect the empty plates, if the queen had bothered to eat the offerings at all, but mostly, they left her alone.

Only Sir Henry persisted when his efforts were repeatedly rebuffed. As the only resident of the castle who didn’t risk a fireball to the face for looking in on the queen when she’d explicitly asked to be left alone, he had made it his duty to check that his daughter was eating and leaving her room at least once a day. He finally felt like he was being a father. His little girl needed help and he was right there, whether she wanted him to be or not.

It didn’t occur to the queen that she had never actually been allowed to mourn for the things she’d lost, and she wasn’t really aware that she was experiencing that now, but each day was filled with new heart-break and just the idea that the world could continue revolving beyond her door was anathema to her.

She was a woman of her word, but oh, how she hated the idea that Snow and Charming were enjoying their time with their daughter, cooing over first words and steps, congratulating themselves on creating something so perfect. Yes, their time was finite and they did have to live with the knowledge that Emma’s life was now intrinsically tied with their enemy’s, but the thought brought little comfort to Regina’s mind while she agonised over missed opportunities and betrayals.

The outside world hurt too much, and without revenge as a motivator, she couldn’t find a good enough reason to try any more.

* * * * *

**Eighteen Months**

It wasn’t her father’s pleas or even her advisors’ demands which eventually drew the Evil Queen from her bed and outside for the first time in months. It was the whinny of a foaling mare, and one in pain at that, which penetrated her subconscious and pulled Regina from her disturbed stupor.

Not considering how her dishevelled appearance might affect her staff or set tongues wagging, she growled at her defective magic and pulled on the first outfit of leather trousers and shirt that hung in her closet. In a rush, she dragged her hair into a loose knot and marched down to the stables.

The mare was exhausted and losing the battle to birth her foal. Regina pushed the ‘experts’ out of the way, took a few moments to assess the situation and surprised everyone by diving arm-first into the birth canal. In a move that she’d assisted her beloved with on more than one occasion, she felt around for the shape of the unborn baby and immediately found the crux of the problem. It wasn’t easy by any stretch of the imagination, but eventually, a healthy colt was born to the world and, with a bit of gentle encouragement, the new mother managed to summon enough energy to lick her son clean and stimulate some movement.

A rousing cheer erupted for the Evil Queen and her decisive actions, and something like relief was felt throughout the castle. Unwilling to leave the foal and his mother for long, Regina spent the majority of the next two weeks in the stables, making sure that both were recovering well from their ordeal. She named the colt ‘Ro’ and, even after it was clear that he and the mare were healthy, she began daily visits to the stables to see them. Much as Rocinante had been her friend, confidant and saviour through her childhood, Ro and his mother, Orchard, became her new lifeline.

To Regina’s staff, it was clear that their queen was back in action and was ready to recommence her duties. As time passed and she resumed her movements back in the court, she faced down any lord or foreign leader who thought he could continue to take advantage of her absence. Before the year was out, she had once again buried her sorrows somewhere deep inside and began to retake the reins of the kingdom.

* * * * *

**Two Years**

Regina checked Orchard’s saddle and bridle one last time before she swung up onto the mare’s back and held the reins loosely between fingers and thumb. Ro was happily kicking up dust in the paddock and frolicking around the other colts and fillies, encouraging them to play. Though he still followed his mother around occasionally, he was now completely weaned, so the queen had decided to give mom and foal a couple of hours apart.

No one commented on the fact that this would be her first trip outside of the castle walls in almost a year, but she could feel their eyes on her anyhow. Her guard captain said nothing as he mounted his own steed and positioned his horse alongside hers. She rolled her eyes and he shrugged apologetically but made no move to let her go off alone. He’d always maintained a quiet, respectful demeanour around his queen. Even during the period when he was conscripting young men to throw at Snow White, he had taken his duty seriously and had always done his best to train her forces, never assuming that he was leading them to die. She respected that. Captain Briggs had earned his keep and she trusted him more than she trusted most others.

The queen led them on the path towards the nearest of her people’s homesteads, thinking that she might as well look in on the peasants and see whether they’d managed to run her assets into the ground during her absence.

It was odd being out in the fresh air away from her home. At first, she almost broke out into a panicked sweat – there was life out here – the daily grind of ordinary folk who had no choice but to live one day to the next. This normality was the very thing she’d been avoiding by locking herself up in her private rooms. Spending a few months in the stables, taking comfort from the horses and watching Ro develop from a spindly-legged new-born into the strong, feisty colt that he was now, this had given her a chance to find a part of herself that she’d thought was dead.

Within the castle walls, the words ‘Evil Queen’ were seldom heard now, and not because her staff were afraid that she would hear them and send them on a one-way trip to the dungeons. Servants and soldiers alike stopped to greet her now instead of scurrying away like mice. Ending her feud with Snow had had a wider impact than she’d anticipated.

She hadn’t known how much her life would change when she made that deal for the White princess’ heart. She’d assumed that she would continue to command her army; continue to bully the commoners who got under her feet and on her nerves; continue to keep under her heel the rich lords who held in trust acres of her land; but none of it had appealed to her once she gave up chasing Snow.

It was as if, in postponing the issue with her former step-daughter, she had rendered The Evil Queen redundant. She tried, for a while, but maintaining that amount of dark energy became exhausting without an outlet at which to direct it. She grew tired of the mask and the armour that her dark persona demanded and without her even noticing, it began to fade.

That wasn’t to say that she’d suddenly become an apple-cheeked fountain of goodness, oh no. She had bottled her temper for years and then, once it was released, had given it complete control. She couldn’t just reverse that transformation even if she wanted to, which – quite frankly – she didn’t. Regina enjoyed being surly and mean spirited at times. It kept people on their toes and amused her. But the knee-jerk cruelty and homicidal rage had lost its shine and she quickly found other ways to deal with the people who tested her patience.

This evolving personality would be thoroughly tested today as she and the captain neared the edge of the first village.

“Bandits, your majesty,” the captain warned her as they rounded a bend in the road and caught the sounds of a scuffle ahead.

“On this road?” she questioned in surprise. So close to the castle, there had never been much of a problem with highway robbery.

“The problem has been building for some weeks,” he explained briefly. “This appears to be a small group. Wait here, your majesty…” he tried before the sound of Orchard’s hooves cut him off and the queen sped towards the escalating struggle. “Damn,” he muttered and followed suit.

As with the pained cries of her mare in labour, it was a woman’s frantic screams which spurred the queen into action. A fleeting thought about rescuing people and facing dire consequences passed through her pessimistic mind, the image of a child on a spooked horse flashing across her retinas, but she was no longer a powerless teen, and this helpless stranger was most likely one of her citizens. _It will do your profits no good if you allow your labourers to die needlessly,_ she told herself to ease the uncomfortable tightening in her chest.

The determined hoof beats startled the three bandits, who had attacked the wagon that lay broken at the side of the road. It was tipped over on its side, a bag of grain – having split – had emptied its contents across the ground and the poor mule, which had pulled the wagon, lay dead. Two of the men held an older woman against a tree while another knelt on the ground above a young redheaded girl of no more than fourteen.

At the sight of not one, but two well-dressed and armed riders, the bandit on the ground scrambled to his feet and stood with the look of someone who was ready to fight.

“Whut you lookin’ at?” he challenged, showing a gap-toothed mouth and spitting whatever he’d been drinking from between his teeth. “This is ‘ar find. If yuh know whut’s good fur ya, yu’ll get moovin’!”

Regina stared hard at the sight of him, but somewhere inside she was waiting for him to recognise her and beg for forgiveness. Not that she would have given it, but it was always amusing when they fell on their knees with the idea that grovelling would help them. Had her appearance really changed so much? She supposed that her preferred outfits had become less ostentatious – choosing more fur and less diamonds; more shoulder without the high collars and less cleavage; rich, rustic reds that might be considered earthy rather than the vibrant, violent statement they had once been. She hadn’t bothered using magic to blacken her hair in a while, and perhaps she _had_ lost her love for the severe makeup that made her feel older than her years and terrified little children. She maintained that air of dark severity, but apparently, all of these things combined meant that she’d lost the instant shock factor that her appearance had so often instilled in people. She wasn’t sure yet how she felt about that revelation.

“Do you not know who you’re speaking to?” Briggs demanded from the man. He had yet to touch his sword but had positioned himself so that he had space to dismount and run the thug through before he or his friends could move.

The bandit’s eyes slid over Regina, drinking her in from head to toe, his lecherous sneer widening with each second. “A toy soldier and ‘is rich bitc-gah!” The insult died in his throat as the queen showed her hand and lifted him into their air with her magic, letting his feet dangle an inch from the ground.

Since the moment her gaze had fixed on the cowering girl on the ground, she’d been waiting for another excuse to rip the man apart. As the Evil Queen, she hadn’t cared much about the plights of others, but on the odd occasion that she did come across assaults like these, she had the perpetrators thrown in her dungeon and tortured – for fun, she always explained – not because she was helping another potential victim of rape.

She wasn’t so far removed from her evil alter-ego for the temptation not to remain and it was with extreme control that she allowed him enough air to breath and gasp, “ _The Evil Queen!”_

“Ah, so you do know me. How nice,” she grinned, enjoying the feeling of stretching muscles that had rested for too long. Her magic had been annoyingly unpredictable since her period of seclusion, but situations like these were just the right fuel for the fire.

“But… they said you were gone. Snow White defeated you,” the bandit gasped as his friends looked on and tried to decide whether they would be able to escape if they chose to run.

Irritation surged sharply inside her mind and her teeth ground together. Reminding herself that the younger queen’s punishment was a life-long, maddening torture, she managed to maintain a cool exterior. “Snow and I came to an agreement. Since then, I’ve been on a sabbatical, dear. Murder and mayhem are exhausting after all. Even the Evil Queen deserves a vacation! Now,” she added in a more dangerous tone. “Tell me, am I mistaken or do these women have you to thank for the state of their property?”

“We meant no ‘arm!” One of the men by the tree blurted in a panic.

“Truly?” the queen asked with surprise and an incredulous chuckle. “My eyes must be deceiving me then. Are you not holding that woman captive?” They immediately leaped away from the woman and, after a moment’s hesitation, turned tail and ran. Regina sighed and raised her free hand in a twisting motion to conjure roots from the ground to detain them. She turned back to the lead bandit. “Now, let me make this very clear, this is _my_ land and these are _my_ people. To cause harm to either without my express permission upsets me greatly. Those who upset me generally do not like the consequences.”

“Please!” he choked desperately.

Regina canted her head to one side and considered her options. It took great concentration to block the memories of her own pleas from bubbling up in her mind. Movement from the ground caught her attention and she spoke directly to the girl. “Did you solicit this man’s attentions or did you ask him to stop?”

Red-rimmed eyes widened and the teen mumbled something inarticulate.

“Speak up, girl,” the queen told her firmly, though her tone lost most of its harsh edge.

“I asked him to stop,” the teen’s tremulous voice rose a little louder.

“Did you say ‘please’?” Regina asked sweetly, her mocking tone directed now at the man in her grasp.

“Yes,” came the whimpered reply from below.

“Hmm,” the queen responded and pretended to consider his entreaty. “They say that manners make the man, but I rather think that actions speak louder than words,” she went on. “I am your judge, jury and executioner if I so choose.” She conjured another handful of roots from the ground and directed them to wrap around her prisoner, mouth and all. “I hope you can breathe through your nose because I’m afraid you and your companions are going to be here for a while.” Her now free hand gestured to the women who moved tentatively closer. “You have names?”

“Yes, your majesty,” the older woman replied. “I am Frieda and this is my daughter, Astra.”

Regina looked down at the worn and dirty faces and appeared to make a decision. “We are riding to the next village. Do you live there?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“And you have no other means of transport?”

“No, your majesty.”

“Very well then,” the queen replied, nodding her head almost as if to convince herself that there was no other choice and it didn’t mean that she was making a habit out of rescuing peasants. “Astra, you will ride with me. Frieda, you will ride with my guard captain.” She offered a hand to the teen, who stood frozen until a gentle shove from her mother broke her state of shock.

The rest of the ride passed fairly quickly and with no further interruptions. Not one for making small-talk, Regina kept her thoughts on the road ahead and on the comment from Briggs, which had implied that bandits were becoming a bigger problem on her land than she had cared to know. Not for the first time, she was annoyed with her own weakness. It didn’t occur to her that the time spent crying into her pillow was exactly what she had needed to grow stronger. That, without the time to mourn, she would have been trapped in a vicious cycle of hate and vengeance.

She might not be the smiling, fawning queen that Snow was, but that didn’t mean she would allow herself to be an incompetent ruler. In fact, the more she considered the list of duties that waited for her at the castle, the more determined she was to show her nemesis just how effectual she could be as queen, even if her people didn’t love her blindly.

Several villagers stopped what they were doing when they saw the well-dressed riders approaching and recognised the passengers. At the queen’s insistence, Frieda directed her to a hut on the eastern edge of the village and there, they all dismounted.

“I will have my soldiers recover your goods and return them to you. Are you sentimental at all about the mule, or would you like the meat?” She knew how she must have sounded concerning the animal’s fate, but by the looks of these people, they couldn’t afford to waste food.

“She served us well, your majesty, but a hole in the ground or a pyre will not make her any less dead. I have to think of feeding my family.”

“There’s no shame in being practical with these matters,” Regina replied stiffly; she was aware of more and more people gathering to watch the exchange and the scrutiny suddenly made her uncomfortable. Without her Evil Queen armour, she felt exposed and wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. Reaching into her saddle bag, she removed a pouch of bread, cheese, meat and butter. With a nod to Briggs, he found his too and she handed them over without ceremony. “Hopefully, this will see you through the night. I will see that your property is returned to you tomorrow.” Frieda began to gush her thanks but a raised hand and a firm look from the queen stopped her abruptly. “Don’t,” she said sharply before returning to her horse and swinging up into the saddle. Her dark gaze travelled over the run-down village and she felt an unfamiliar tightening inside. “You owe me nothing,” she whispered, unheard.

In stark contrast to a significant portion of the preceding year, Regina barely slept that night. After returning to her castle, she ordered soldiers to the site where she’d left the bandits and the women’s wagon. The criminals were escorted back to the castle where they were to wait in the dungeon for their trial, while the wagon, mule and grain were brought back to the castle for repair, butchery and repacking.

None of this solved the issue with the unsafe roads and rising crime though. Regina delved into months of neglected paperwork and read late into the night. She burnt the candle at both ends and by morning, she had drawn up the start of a year-long plan for restoration.

Bandits, it turned out, were the tip of the iceberg. While chasing Snow around The Enchanted Forest, she’d mostly left the daily running of her kingdom up to the few advisors who she could tolerate. They did the job as best they could but they were working from laws and legislation that hadn’t changed since before Leopold was born. He was generally thought of as a benevolent ruler who loved his people, but Regina knew him as a self-involved narcissist who enjoyed being in the lime-light, and since he had neither sense nor interest for economics and business, he happily left those duties to his advisors – signing whatever they put in front of him. Success for the kingdom had depended heavily on how corrupt those advisors were.

She should have been furious to be left picking up the pieces of his failures, but she actually relished the challenge. If she took his failing economy and turned her kingdom into a prosperous place where people were able to improve their prospects without the need for charity balls and banquets, she would demonstrate to all that being a good leader did not have to hang on popularity. Much as she’d wanted the people to automatically love her after the king’s death, she’d learned that it would be a pale substitute for what she’d had with Daniel. She’d given up on love – it had abandoned her long ago – but success and satisfaction could be found in other places.

After a week of meetings – mostly so she could debate the logic of outdated laws and throw everything out that no longer suited her – she and Captain Briggs led a dozen seasoned soldiers back to the village, along with all of the equipment they would need for the first step of her plan. Frieda was waiting for them on the entrance to the village, at a weathered signpost which read ‘Wood End’.

“Your majesty,” Frieda greeted the queen along with a small bow. “You asked that I meet you here?”

“Yes,” Regina replied, her tone business like with an edge of impatience. “Is there somewhere we can speak in private?”

The older woman hesitated as she thought of anywhere suitable to talk to royalty, but quickly decided that her options were limited to one place. “My home is small but no one other than Astra is there.”

“It will suffice. Lead the way,” the queen commanded. Before following, she turned to the captain. “Get started. You know what to do.”

“Aye, your majesty,” he obeyed. To the men, he shouted, “You heard your queen; unload and start building!”

Inside Frieda’s humble abode, Astra sat at a tiny table in the corner of the only room, hunched over an intricate piece of needlework. She didn’t turn when she heard footsteps, being too engrossed in her work, but called out across the room. “What did the queen want?”

Regina tried not to smile as she heard a sharp gasp from beside her. It was gratifying to know that her reputation still struck fear into the hearts of people. “Just to speak with your mother,” she answered without preamble. “Perhaps you would join us?”

Recognising the voice, the teen turned a dangerous shade of pale and held her breath. “I’m so sor…”

“This is your home,” Regina interrupted. “I shall not presume to tell you how to talk about uninvited guests.” She was keen to move on to the reason for her being there and waved her arm so that a table and three chairs appeared. “Shall we?” she asked and sat herself down.

Once everyone was seated, the queen began. “First, I would like you to tell me about the bandits. How serious is the problem? I want the truth, mind. I care not if there are lords or ladies involved who would prefer to remain anonymous. The sooner I know what the situation is, the sooner I can put a stop to it.”

So, mother and daughter began to explain everything they knew – from the regular thefts and attacks that had pre-dated Snow’s birth, to the increase in organised mobs during the end of Leopold’s reign, and finally to the chaotic free-for-all that had plagued the village in the last few months. Regina listened quietly, making mental notes of names and places mentioned.

“That is enough for now. Thank you for your candour. I trust that you received the property and replacements I sent?” the queen asked. Her brain was buzzing with ideas that she wanted to get working on immediately, but today’s tasks took priority. There was also that twisting in her gut again when the women mentioned her recent absence from public life and she needed a change of topic to make it go away.

“It was very generous of you, your majesty,” Frieda answered. The wagon had returned working better than new, the grain all accounted for – including a replacement bag for the one that had spilled, and enough jerky to last the winter if they were careful with it. This had been surprising enough, but the animal which had pulled the wagon home was also left with the two women. Astra had set to work immediately on making the new mule feel at home, but all Frieda could do for several minutes was stare at it. “We are taking good care of the mule.” Part of her wanted to ask when they were expected to give it back, but another part of her didn’t want to know the answer.

Regina guessed the thoughts that passed the older woman’s expression and sighed internally. She wasn’t going to get into the habit of giving handouts, but after the events of that day, she had felt responsible for the family’s losses. What was one less mule to the castle? They mostly used horses anyway. But for these women, it could be the difference between life and death. “I am pleased to hear it. He is young and should serve you well.”

A great weight lifted from Frieda’s shoulders and she barely held back her profuse gratitude. From her limited experience though, she had learned that the queen was not comfortable with overly emotional displays. “Is there anything else we can help you with?” she asked instead.

Regina’s expression relaxed from the tense frown that had appeared. Focussing on her plans was her new coping strategy and again, she was glad for the change of subject. “Yes. It is my intention to increase patrols along the roads, but it is not enough just to have my soldiers riding out every day. Their range would be limited. Today, we will build a watch-tower here – my people are working on it now – but eventually I will expect a small garrison to maintain a permanent presence in the area. As we are setting up, I would like you to be the voice for your neighbours. In time, I will ask the village to elect a representative to oversee communication with the crown, but for now, I just need you to disseminate any instructions I send from the castle. Is that clear?”

Frieda’s expression appeared slightly panicked at the idea of so much responsibility, but she quickly recovered. “I will do my absolute best, your majesty.”

Reading between the lines and knowing how hard the pair must have to work just to get by, Regina added, “You will be compensated for this task, of course.”

“Oh!” the older woman exclaimed with surprise. She smiled, something like humour drawing lines around her eyes. “That would make the task more manageable.”

“Good,” the queen commented and stood to leave. “I will have messengers sent to keep you informed.”

Frieda and Astra followed the monarch to the door and watched her expertly mount her horse. Both women were still reeling from the events of the past week and everything that was set to change, but the thing that surprised them the most was the transformation of the woman before them.

Two years ago, her soldiers had arrived to take most of the young men off to fight. Those who had not chosen to stay in the army had returned after a year and very few were seriously wounded, but no one had said the words Evil Queen with anything like affection. One or two of the ex-soldiers had told tales of the queen’s victories with respect in their voices, but they were still resentful of being conscripted in the first place. Life had been hard in their absence and since the increase in crime, many were struggling to survive let alone recover what little wealth they’d had.

This queen, while fairly cold in her manner, seemed to genuinely care about repairing the damage caused by her dark half and the previous monarch’s disinterest. She had not apologised, and nor did they think she would, but if her determination to follow through had half the energy of her vendetta against Snow White, they could expect to be turning a profit again in no time. The very idea seemed impossible, and yet here they were.

“Your majesty?” Frieda called before the monarch could urge her horse into action. The queen turned a questioning expression on her. “Good health to you.”

Regina stared down at the woman. She digested the words as if they were food that she’d never tasted and was concerned that they might contain poison, but eventually, she swallowed them with the respect intended and nodded her head in acknowledgement. “To you too,” she replied before riding swiftly away.


	6. First Impressions

**Seven Years**

The ballroom was filled to bursting with royals and dignitaries; all invited to Queen Abigail and King Fredrick’s coronation. As the only two members of aristocracy whom Regina could tolerate, she had reluctantly accepted the invitation, and so now she stood, surrounded by peacocks and their hens, all preening for the attentions of the new king and queen. She had affected an outward appearance of disinterest and wore an outfit that harked strongly of her days as the scourge of the Enchanted Forest. It was working well to keep most of the sycophants at bay.

“Regina,” Abigail’s voice came from behind the recluse, breaking her from her brooding. “I’m glad that you came,” she said and kissed the dark queen on the cheek.

“I would never hear the end of it if I hadn’t,” Regina replied and accepted the intimate gesture.

It had surprised her when, in her dealings with King Midas, she had grown to enjoy the princess’ company. Over five years, while dragging her kingdom out of debt and depression, she had made trade deals with many other nobles, but Midas’ support had been the hardest and most prosperous win. The king had asked his daughter to handle the deal once the paperwork was finished, hoping to train her to continue his legacy. Regina had been just as much a teacher to the young royal after that, and respect eventually grew into friendship.

“You’re not wrong. You spend far too much time in that terrifying castle of yours, working. You need to socialise more,” the new queen complained lightly.

“You and Fredrick are the only ones in this room that I care to spend any time socialising with,” Regina pushed right back. “I have no time to waste on frivolous gossip,” she added with a growing sneer as the closest group of ladies broke into high-pitched giggles.

Abigail rolled her eyes and lifted two wine glasses from a passing servant. “Here. Drink. Perhaps today we can aim for less surly and more sarcastic. At least when you’re pulling people apart it’s amusing.”

A small smile tugged at Regina’s lips. This was why she was friends with Abigail. She was ‘good’ so far as the rest of the world was concerned, and that was fine, but there was a playful wickedness about her that complemented Regina’s dark sense of humour. For now though, other more compassionate social norms needed to be observed.

“I am sorry for your loss, Abi,” the sorceress told her friend softly. “Your father had my respect for the most part. That he thought to teach you so much was to his credit. He shall be missed.”

“Thank you, Regina. My coronation was always going to be a sad affair for me. The thought of being Queen Abigail has always been tainted by the knowledge that I would lose my father, but such is life. He meant the world to me. I hope I will do him proud.”

“Of that, dear, I have no doubt. You are far more sensible of your position than most,” Regina complimented her friend. “Had you not ought to be mingling more with your guests? They apparently think that I’m monopolising your time,” she commented and gestured to the room, where half a dozen faces, male and female, were gazing back in their direction.

Abigail cleared her throat, and chuckled to herself as discretely as she could. At the older queen’s curious look, she explained, “You do not see your appeal, do you, Regina?”

Confusion fell over dark eyes and they gazed at the blonde for clarification. She found nothing there but a patient expression. When a pale eyebrow rose as if to say ‘come on, you know what I’m talking about’, she scoffed. “You cannot be serious!” she hissed, not daring to look back at the crowd to see if her friend was teasing her.

“Oh, because a single, beautiful, successful queen doesn’t sound like an eligible match for any noble?” Abigail mocked. “Really Regina, if you were not so unapproachable, they would be swooning all over you right now.”

It had been quite some time since she’d thought of herself that way. As the Evil Queen, she had wielded sex-appeal as easily as putting on a coat, but over the last few years, she’d become far more comfortable with using her intellect and biting wit to bring others to their knees. At this revelation, Regina smirked and contemplated the staring faces again. Now that she had a new perspective, she could see their interest for what it was – desire for danger, power and money. She wasn’t too modest to admit that she did still have sex appeal, even if she didn’t flaunt it as she once had.

“A pity for them that I’m not interested.”

“Hmm, I know better than to press you on this topic,” Abigail sighed and then took up a sip of her wine. “By the way, have you heard? There was a flight of dragons spotted over the forest yesterday.”

A sharp gasp from close by caught their attention and both queens looked about to see who was spying on them. They didn’t have to look far when a head of blonde curls appeared from beneath a table cloth, swiftly followed by a small girl in a shockingly frilly, yellow dress. Though Regina had always imagined Emma with darker hair, like her mother’s, she instantly knew that this was Snow’s child.

“There are _dragons_ in the forest?” the girl blurted excitedly.

Regina’s eyebrow rose to her hairline. Was Snow letting the girl run wild? “You know, it isn’t polite to listen to other people’s conversations,” she told the girl forcefully. She felt suddenly trapped beneath the child’s open gaze and feeling any type of discomfort always brought the snide comments out from her. “Spying is a punishable offence.”

Abigail cleared her throat and looked sidelong at her friend. The older queen was usually so patient with children. Did her hatred for Snow White really stretch to her offspring? “Why were you hiding under the table, Emma?”

“I didn’t mean to listen. Really, I didn’t!” the seven-year-old pleaded, her green eyes staring at the imposing woman next to Queen Abigail. “I just wanted to get away from all the people.”

“There you are, Regina,” Abigail smirked at her friend, “a kindred spirit.”

Emma’s face scrunched up in concentration, as if she was trying to pull together contrasting pieces of information. “Regina…” she whispered before her eyes widened even further and she gasped. “Are you…?” but then she paused and looked at the imposing queen again. “You don’t look evil.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Regina replied, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was taking. She tried to tell herself that it was because, in ten years, she needed Snow to still be afraid for her daughter’s safety, but something else, something intangible lingered at the back of her mind and the child’s presence was the cause.

Again, Emma seemed to take a moment to consider something that came to mind and eventually, she shuddered. “I know,” she said softly, almost fearfully.

There was a haunted look in those green eyes and Regina immediately assumed the worst. _What has Snow been doing if not protecting her daughter?_ she seethed internally. “What do you mean?”

The girl refocussed on the two queens and looked a little sheepish. “Mommy and Daddy tell people off and punish them when they do bad things. There was a bad man. He hurt his wife. He said he was sorry and he wouldn’t do it again. He cried and Mommy felt bad for him, but he lied.”

Abigail looked down at the child with the same barely-controlled concern and curiosity that was mirrored on her friend’s face. “How do you know he lied, Emma? Did you see something that upset you?”

Emma shook her head. “No,” she answered wistfully. “His words were wrong; he didn’t mean them. You should always mean it if you say sorry.”

“Emma!” a shrill cry penetrated the intimate gathering, interrupting the child’s revelation.

Abigail stifled a chuckle at the simultaneous groans from both of her companions and looked up to see Snow White barrelling down on them. She kept her expression deliberately neutral and hoped that her friend could manage to get through this meeting without creating a diplomatic incident.

“Queen Snow,” she greeted politely.

It seemed to take the newcomer a moment to register the words since her suspicious gaze was fixed firmly on her former nemesis, but the feel of Emma’s hand tugging at her mother’s skirt snapped Snow out of her thoughts.

“Sorry. Hello, Queen Abigail. Congratulations! The service and celebrations today have been lovely. We’ve enjoyed ourselves immensely, haven’t we, Emma?” Snow gushed as she pulled her daughter closer.

“You have so many friends!” the girl said in a tone that suggested ‘too many’ friends.

Abigail smiled. Since she was already aware of the girl’s aversion to large crowds, she appreciated the effort to be polite. She remembered well how hard that was at seven-years-old. “A coronation is a rare event, princess. Many people like to share in the celebrations,” she explained gently.

“And sample the free food and drink,” Regina added critically. The comment drew Snow’s eyes to her once again and she stared back; daring an open conflict of opinion.

“The food was wonderful!” Emma enthused, unaware of the building tension between her mother and Regina.

This time, Abigail didn’t hold back her amusement. “I am very glad you think so.”

Feeling pleased with herself for making the new queen laugh, Emma smiled up at her mother as if to say ‘see, I can do this on my own’. Snow’s answering smile was forced though and this brought her attention back to the third queen. “Mommy, is Queen Regina the Evil Queen from your stories?” At her mother’s stiff nod, she turned back to her audience. “Did you really save my mother’s life?”

Since that had not been the question Regina was expecting, she had to take a moment to respond. “Yes. Something spooked her horse and she was close to falling off.”

“Emma, that’s enough now,” Snow cautioned her daughter gently and attempted to lead her away.

“Why did she make you so mad then?” the girl continued heedless of the hands pulling on her shoulders. She had to know. This evil woman, who didn’t look or sound evil – why did she do so many bad things?

The former villain contemplated the girl for a minute and then shifted her intense gaze to the mother. Vengeance no longer consumed her every waking thought, but there was still satisfaction to be had from her enemy’s tortured expression. “That’s a _bedtime_ story for another day…” she replied, her eyes speaking to Snow of things only they knew. “When you’re older,” she smirked.


	7. Lookin' Out For Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of the educators out there on their last day of autumn term - we made it! Happy Holidays!
> 
> While I'm very much looking forward to a break from work, I am also facing my first Christmas alone. So, this is another shout out to all of those who are making tough decisions over whether to see family and friends over the festive season. Virtual hugs.

**Seventeen Years**

Emma eyed the table at the far end of the ballroom and felt a tug somewhere deep inside. Oh, how she longed for the days when she could sneak away from the people at these functions and hide away from the world.

As it stood though, she was far too old to play those tricks. Her coming-of-age ball had been just a year ago, on her sixteenth birthday, and now at seventeen, she was almost a woman and expected to know better. She was expected to behave like the dutiful princess and tolerate her guests no matter how boorish they were.

Unfortunately, she had never quite managed to grasp the ability to listen attentively when she found the person or subject dull. Her brain, well, it _was_ a mind of its own, and most of the time it found other things more worthwhile to consider. Like riding headlong across an open field or climbing the steep rock formations beyond the western hills. While these thoughts were vastly more entertaining than the fops who always managed to corner her at balls, they left her with a vapid smile that tricked the speaker into thinking that he had things in hand.

And answering questions? Well…

“I’m sorry,” Emma said automatically as the sudden silence pulled her out of her thoughts. “What was the question again?”

A flicker of uncertainty and then annoyance crossed the duke’s features. “We make quite a striking pair, do we not?”

Having heard this line a thousand times, the princess adopted an air of innocent confusion. “For what?”

“To get married,” he answered confidently.

“Oh!” she tittered, affecting her most bashful manner. “I’m not ready to get married. I’m only just seventeen!”

That annoyance returned and stayed longer, bringing pity with it as he questioned her intelligence. “Princess Emma,” he began again, not inclined to give up yet. It wasn’t her brain that he wanted to marry after all. “Seventeen is old enough to marry with your parents’ consent.”

“Duke Faverish,” Emma replied cautiously. She tried to think of something else to tell him to stamp on his hopes but not offend. It was a delicate task; so many of these lords, dukes and princes were overly sensitive to rejection. _Seriously! They get more persistent every year!_ she complained inwardly. “I need to speak to my father. Excuse me for a moment.” She pressed a hand lightly against his forearm in a placating gesture and almost ran across the ballroom to hide behind Charming.

“Emma!” he greeted his daughter enthusiastically and pulled her into a hug. “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

“If I could be left alone for five minutes, I might be able to join the celebration, but as it stands, I seem to be a magnet for every bachelor in the kingdom. They stalk me like flies on sh…”

“Emma!” Charming hissed with an amused grin. “Company,” he warned more seriously.

She shook her hands out and took several deep breaths. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“Who’s the latest victim of your charms?” he teased, though deep down he was prepared to add another name to the list of suitors who would not be invited to the next ball.

It was inevitable that his little girl would become a highly sought-after prize the moment she became a woman; she was a princess after all and the heir to the White throne, but the fact that she was also quite beautiful meant that the proposals landed on her thick and fast. He and Snow were ever hopeful that she would meet her true love before she turned eighteen, but he hated that she felt so uncomfortable with their attentions. He did his best to filter out the worst of them, but this was a rite of passage expected of royals and his wife was adamant that Emma would get used to it.

“If Duke Faverish asks for your permission to marry me, run him through,” she whispered in her father’s ear before turning to the buffet table.

Hours later, when all the guests had finally departed and Emma was allowed to return to her room, she stood as patiently as she could while one of the servants pulled away the ties at the back of her dress. When it sank to the floor in a frilly mound, she stepped out of it gratefully and kicked it away, as if it had bitten her.

“At least when I’m queen, I won’t have mother guilting me into these horrible dresses anymore,” she grumbled. The servant chuckled, making her blush. “You didn’t hear me say that, Tilly.”

“Of course not, princess,” Tilly answered readily, though she did little to suppress her grin.

“I love mother dearly, but her idea of being a princess is vastly different to mine. How are you supposed to fight and defend your lands if you can’t move?” Emma went on. She wouldn’t dare have the same tirade with most of the other servants, but Matilda had been her hand-maiden for almost as long as she could remember. They had practically grown up together, their ages being not too far apart, so the other blonde had become more like a sister and confidant than a servant.

“I’m fairly sure that’s what soldiers are for, your Highness.”

“A king or queen should be at the head of their army, leading the charge. Not cowering at the back.” She had very definite ideas about what made an effective fighting force, and motivation was at the top of the list. What motivated the soldiers more than seeing their leader fighting for them just as heroically as their brethren?

These thoughts followed her into bed and into her dreams. When she woke the next morning, it was with a vivid image of riding through the forest, with dragons flying overhead and an army at her back. She smiled to herself, stretched and turned to face the rising sun through her window. It was already high in the sky, which showed the lateness of the hour. If there was one thing she could say she liked about balls, it was the lazy day that followed. Since Snow put so much effort into planning the ball and then enjoying the ball, she inevitably needed a day to sleep off her excitement and exhaustion.

For the rest of the day, Emma ducked in and out of the kitchens for rolls of fresh bread and sweets, smiling winningly each time the cook half-heartedly shooed her away. She visited her horse in the stables and promised her a few hours out of the castle the next day; practised her archery and sword skills with the captain of the guard; spent some time on the north tower with her sketch book and finally, wandered into the dining room to join her parents for dinner. Overall, it had been a very satisfying day and she greeted the king and queen with kisses to their cheeks and a wide smile.

Emma’s good mood evaporated slowly through the meal though. Her parents tried to mirror her upbeat demeanour but failed miserably and she had to wonder how much wine they had consumed the previous evening to still be feeling the effects of the alcohol. Over indulgence was not the cause for their lack of enthusiasm though.

“Mom, Dad,” she began worriedly. “Is something happening that you don’t want to tell me about?”

Snow stopped with a morsel of food half way to her mouth and slowly placed it back on her plate. She contemplated the table for a moment, gaining the strength she needed for this conversation, but eventually, she lifted her eyes to her daughter’s “Emma, we need to talk to you about marriage.”

Shock fell over the princess’ expression and she dropped her knife, leaving it to clatter loudly against the plate. “I thought you said I could take my time and choose. You wanted me to find my true love.”

Heart-break filled the queen’s eyes and they glassed over before she could stop them. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded. “Yes, sweetheart, we do want you to find your true love. We did not want to pressure you or make you feel like you had to rush into an engagement with any of your suitors, but I’m afraid that there is a limit on how much time you have.”

“How long do I have?” Emma asked, her body suddenly feeling very weak. “Wait a minute! _Why_ is time suddenly an issue? I’m only seventeen!”

Charming reached out for his wife’s hand and knew that they were going to have to start from the beginning if Emma was going to understand what was happening to her. “You remember the stories your mother used to tell you about the Evil Queen?”

A moment passed where the princess frowned and looked between her parents. She had an old but prevalent memory of meeting Queen Regina ten years ago at Queen Abigail’s coronation. She remembered the tactless questions she’d asked and the comments that would have offended any other royal. She remembered feeling small beneath that dark, penetrating gaze and wondering how someone so beautiful could have been so bad. “What does this have to do with her?”

“Well, sweetheart. I told you that a magical creature helped me to stop the Evil Queen’s dark curse – the one that would have separated our family and taken away everyone’s happy ending…”

“And then she started sending her army to attack the villages because she couldn’t get close to you.” Emma continued, having heard the story a hundred times.

“Yes, but we were eventually able to come to an agreement with her. She would leave us and our people in peace if I gave her something precious to me,” Snow finished and then held her breath as she wated for the teen to put the pieces together.

“Me?” Emma whispered in a tremulous voice. “You gave her _me_?” She stared at them as if they were strangers all of a sudden and tears gathered in her eyes.

“Emma, I’m sorry,” the queen sniffled. “There were no good answers and people were getting hurt. We couldn’t defeat her forces and the villagers were suffering. If we had left the castle and run with you, she would have come after us. It was by far the hardest decision we’ve ever had to make, but there is still hope.”

“How?” Emma’s demanded, her voice croaking with confusion and betrayal.

“The deal can be broken if you find your true love.” Charming said with half a smile as he squeezed Snow’s hand.

It did give her hope, somehow. They had considered her choice in the matter, as fragile as that choice might be. “So, I have… til I’m eighteen I guess… to find my true love or I have to what…? Go and live in Queen Regina’s dungeon?”

“Eighteen, yes,” Snow enlightened her. “Dungeon, no. You would be her queen.”

Emma’s eyes almost fell out of her head at that revelation. “I have to _marry_ her!?” she cried. “But isn’t she really old by now?” It had been ten years since she’d seen the former Evil Queen, and she knew that many considered her a beauty, but she had to be more than twice Emma’s age by now and past marrying surely?

Snow winced. This point, she was sure, was a large part of the pain Regina wanted her to feel. She hadn’t considered the age difference between her father and the girl who had saved her life all those years ago, but as she looked at Emma, she really began to understand just how hateful the idea had been to Regina, regardless of her existing relationship with Daniel. She supposed that, in this case, Regina’s immortality actually came as more of a blessing.

“Actually, sweetheart. The curse or spell – whatever the creature did to the Evil Queen – it didn’t just stop her from entering our lands, it stopped her from dying… from ageing,” Snow explained. “Physically, she is no older than when you met her at Abigail’s coronation.”

“Oh,” the princess breathed, her horror deflating somewhat. “So, I wouldn’t be locked in a dungeon or married to an old woman?” she clarified as the shock began to wear off. By no means was she happy with this turn of events. She had envisioned a few more years of running free and dodging suitors before she began to seriously consider any of their advances. But if she had no choice in the matter, it didn’t hurt to look for the silver linings. “At the coronation, I asked her what you had done to make her so angry.”

“I remember,” Snow replied softly. She also remembered vividly the tormenting jibe that Regina had worded just to torture her, but she didn’t need to remind her daughter of that. “Do you still want to know?”

Emma thought about it for a moment, but shook her head. “No… at least, not yet.” She needed time to think about how her parents had just turned her life upside down. She needed time to understand how they could have made the decision that they did because, at the moment, all she could think was that they had thrown her away before she could even walk.

“When you’re ready then,” Snow answered diplomatically and held back a sob as Emma excused herself from the room. “Oh, David,” she whispered once she and Charming were alone. “What did we do?”

“We only had ‘wrong’ and ‘less wrong’ to choose from, Snow. You remember how long we tried to find an alternative. Emma will understand. Give her time,” he placated. No amount of accusations were going to turn back time and give them a different path, so all he could do was comfort his family and do his best to support them. “The more you hurt yourself for this, the more Regina wins. Don’t give her more than what she’s already taken,” he urged her.

“Don’t I deserve it?” the queen thought aloud. “Did you see Emma’s face when she thought she was going to have to marry someone so much older than her? No matter how good my father was, Regina didn’t want to marry him. I took her future away. And now, she’s taking Emma’s… to punish me.”

“She’s not quite the monster she once was, Snow. I’ve actually heard good things about her lately,” David tried once again to find something to ease his wife’s guilt.

“If she was actually good, she would allow us to come to a different arrangement,” Snow argued. “You remember what she told me last year, when I rode all the way to her castle and tried to reason with her? She won’t deviate because revenge is all that truly lives in her heart.”

* * * * *

Through the next few days, Emma avoided her parents as much as possible without being overly cruel to them. She asked politely if she could take her meals in her room and spent a lot of time out riding or secluded high on the north tower, away from anyone who might ask, ‘what’s wrong?’. She neglected her lessons and tended to the bare minimum of her duties, but no one questioned her so she assumed that everyone had been ordered to give her space.

She was grateful but at the same time, it made her feel all the more alone with this problem. Could it be called a problem? she wondered. It wasn’t as if she could fix anything. She’d barely been introduced to the world when fate had decided to rob her of her life!

What if she didn’t have a true love? Or, what if she didn’t meet them until it was too late? The Evil Queen had offered to let their betrothal go if she met that person before she was eighteen, but would she do the same after they were married? She didn’t think so somehow.

Why had the Evil Queen allowed that concession anyway? Why would she be so kind amongst all of her cruelty? She must have asked for something else in return and Emma made a mental note to ask her parents – when she could face them again. Though, perhaps she didn’t really want to know the answer. What if they had to forfeit their freedom so that their daughter could be happy? _Could_ Emma be happy with a life where she knew her parents were suffering? Was this the sort of moral dilemma they’d faced when trying to stop the Evil Queen?

So many questions tormented Emma in the days which followed her seventeenth birthday. At times her feelings on the matter moved so rapidly between dread of what would happen after she married, to hope that there was still enough time to put a stop to it, that it made her head spin and she had to lie down for a while before she could start the process all over again.

She wasn’t sure that she would ever be ready to face the world again now that it had been turned on its head, but she knew her mother’s lack of patience. Lo and behold, by the end of the fourth day, the queen was there, waiting in Emma’s room for the princess to arrive after her wanderings.

“Mother,” she greeted the queen as she closed the door softly behind her.

She noticed both the guilt-inducing expression and the plate of cookies straight away; they were the queen’s weapons of choice when she wanted Emma to spend time with her or concede to whatever desire played on Snow’s mind. Emma remembered the comment she’d made to Tilly about the horrible clothes that her mother loved to dress her in. Would Regina let her wear clothes that _she_ liked? she wondered.

Resigning to her fate, she perched on her bed next to her mother and shoved a cookie in her mouth. “Checking up on me?” she asked as soon as she’d swallowed the sugary treat.

“Emma, your father and I are worried about you,” Snow began.

The princess grabbed another cookie and ate it with a disgruntled expression. “I just need some time to understand why it had to be me, and to let go of the life I had imagined for myself,” she explained in a self-pitying tone that she immediately hated.

“Oh, Emma,” Snow almost sobbed. “Don’t say that. There’s still a chance.” She patted her daughter’s leg. “We will have a ball every week until you meet him,” she added in what she thought was a comforting manner. “We have a year; you can hold onto your dream – your true love, marriage, children…”

The teen rolled her eyes and counted to ten. “Of course,” she replied diplomatically.

Snow caught the expression of annoyance and immediately felt her body tense. “What is it?” she demanded. “What do you disagree with? You might as well tell me now so you don’t explode on me later.”

That was a fair point, the teen conceded. She did have a habit of bottling everything up and then letting it all out in one go. “True love, a husband and children were always _your_ dream, Mom,” Emma tried gently. “I was happy with you letting me take my time to find ‘the one’ because I didn’t want to marry _anyone_ and it was a good excuse to use when I felt under pressure.”

“Oh,” Snow responded, her face saying that she didn’t understand this _at all._

“Yes ‘oh’, but none of it was worth the effort anyway, was it? because all of this time I’ve been moving toward a life sentence and I didn’t even know it. I was so idiotic to believe that my life was my own. I’m a princess; I forfeited freedom before I was even born.”

Again, the queen struggled to understand what she was hearing. What little girl didn’t dream of being a princess, and what princess didn’t dream of meeting her prince? Her father had certainly seemed to think that this was the way of the world and, as far as she could remember, she’d wanted to grow up and live the life her mother had had – and Regina too, to a lesser extent, before she’d known better. Lack of understanding didn’t mean that she wouldn’t try to accept her daughter’s wishes though. She wanted Emma to be happy.

“Well, sweetheart, what do you want for your future?”

“Does is matter now?” the teen groused.

Snow’s forlorn expression intensified as it did whenever she thought that her daughter was pulling away from her. “I would still like to know, Emma. We used to talk all the time about all manner of things. If eighteen years are all we have together, I want you to know that I love you.”

“I know you love me. Of course, I do,” Emma responded and squeezed the queen’s hand. As for the second part, “Do you think we won’t see each other again once I’m married to Queen Regina?”

“I don’t know what to think.” Snow looked to the ceiling for inspiration but there was very little to see. “Regina is… different now, but she is still determined to punish me and I worry about what restrictions she will try to place on you.”

Green eyes, which had defiantly weathered the idea of her arranged marriage, suddenly grew dark and fearful. “Maybe it’s time you told me about how all of this started,” she suggested firmly.

Snow wanted to hear more about her daughter’s hopes and dreams, but decided that Emma had earned the whole story. “I told you about how she saved me. Well, we became friends almost immediately after that.” At the teen’s surprised look, she smiled sadly. “I know, difficult to believe, isn’t it? She was kind and patient, ready to explain the best way to handle a spooked horse and insistent that I get back on, despite how scare I was. I had a bad case of hero worship after that day.”

“What happened?”

“I told my father what had happened and sang her praises. I had still been mourning my mother quite sharply at that point and I suppose father thought that Regina was just what I needed to move on with my life.” Snow shrugged; she had been vastly pleased with herself at the time, but shame filled her each time she thought of it since.

“He asked her to marry him?” Emma asked, though she knew the answer already from her childhood, bedtimes stories. What she had failed to do before was to truly take into account what that had meant for the young Mills princess. If Emma’s mother had told her that she would be marrying an old man with a grown daughter, she might have considered throwing herself off the north tower. Running away had entered her mind the moment she’d assumed that she was going to have to marry an old woman but, for some reason, becoming the wife of an old king seemed so much worse.

Snow nodded gravely. “Yes, and when he came home with the news that the proposal had been accepted, I was so happy.”

“She said yes?” the teen asked with surprise.

“I assumed so at the time, but from what I can gather now, it was her mother who accepted for her.”

Emma was horror-struck. “What!? Why would she do that?”

The queen thought back to the few times that she’d spoken with Regina’s mother and she shuddered slightly. “Cora Mills was a very ambitions and manipulative person. Do you know what ‘Regina’ means?”

“It means queen,” the princess answered immediately. How many genealogy books had she found that name in? She couldn’t not know the answer to that.

“Even when Regina was minutes old, Cora was determined that her daughter would be queen.” Snow shook her head and looked down at fingers that wrung tersely in her lap. “As a child, I couldn’t comprehend the idea of a mother who could hurt her daughter… Anyway, where was I?”

“The engagement.”

“Yes,” Snow remembered and picked it up again. “Well, I was so happy, that I went to the Mills’ manor to tell her how much I was looking forward to her living with us. Her father said she was tending to the horses, so I ran there to look for her and I found her with the stable boy.”

Emma’s eyebrows rose sharply. “What were they doing?” she asked in a tone that made her mother squeal in shock.

“Emma!”

“What!? It was just a question.”

“With _that_ intonation, I have to wonder who you’ve been talking to.” When her daughter wasn’t forthcoming with a name, she sighed and shook off the embarrassment. “They were kissing. It confused me and I must have cried out because Regina followed after me when I ran away.”

The teen was really beginning to piece the story together now and thought she knew where it was heading. “So, she was in love with the stable boy and she hates you because she had to marry your father instead?”

“I wish that was the worst of it.” The queen cringed. “She explained about D… the stable boy, and how she was in love with him. And oh Emma, she made love sound so magical.”

Emma’s expression softened as she let her mind wander. She tried to picture the woman from Queen Abigail’s coronation as a young woman in love. “I wonder if any of that girl still exists inside her now.”

Snow looked surprised at the question but the spark of hope that appeared in her eyes faded rapidly. “I… I know she isn’t casting dark curses any more, Emma, but I just don’t think… I-I should continue the story.” She wanted her daughter to have hope; it was the most powerful thing a person could have when all else failed, but she was cautious too. If Regina turned out to be just as evil as she ever was inside the privacy of her own castle, then Emma would be in for a huge shock. She couldn’t send her child off without some warning. “She made love sound so magical and I was sure that my father would understand why she couldn’t marry him, but she made me swear not to tell anyone.”

The princess abruptly realised where this was going and why the Evil Queen was so fixated on her mother for her revenge. “Oh… Mom… what did you do?”

“I was young, Emma,” Snow tried to explain. “Regina’s mother sold me a sob story about wanting her daughter to be happy. I thought that she genuinely cared about Regina and I didn’t… I didn’t know what she would do… what she was capable of.”

“Oh…” Emma breathed deep in sorrow. Her hand automatically reached up to cover her mouth and the gasp that wanted to escape. “She didn’t…”

The queen nodded sadly. “Regina told me that the stable boy had run away and so she was marrying my father instead. She… well, the Evil Queen didn’t tell me the truth until years later. There wasn’t much left of Regina by then.” A silence stretched between them as mother and daughter thought about the horror of what had happened, of the young woman who’d lost love so cruelly. “She let me believe the lie for my entire childhood,” Snow added softly, once again realising that the Evil Queen had not appeared overnight. It had taken years to kill the innocent girl inside.

Now that she finally had the whole story, Emma felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “She wants me because she feels like her life was stolen from her and taking my life in the same way will punish you for betraying her secret.” Her parents hadn’t just made an easy choice to sell her off in exchange for their own comfort. The situation had been so much more complicated and tragic and they had just tried to do their best for everyone. For a split second, she wondered if she would have felt the same way if she’d had to grow up alone in the Land Without Magic. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“W-what?”

“It sounds like Cora is the one who deserves most of the blame,” Emma noted confidently.

“Probably,” Snow replied as she got over the shock of her daughter’s apology. “I don’t know where she disappeared to, but I can understand why Regina came after me rather than her mother. She must have been a terrifying person to live with.”

“Yeah…” Emma agreed and shivered at the thought. Turning back to her mother, she began to explain what her many hours of thought had brought her. “I’m still upset that there’s a deadline on when I have to get married. I was hoping for a few more years – maybe until I was twenty-one – before I started thinking about that, but I think I understand now. You’ve been trapped in a nightmare that you mistakenly created. So, I’m sorry for how much this must hurt you too.” Emma felt something pass through her as she said those words – a powerful force that tingled along her arms and hands as she realised that she loved her mother no matter what mistakes she’d made. They were all victims in this, but filling herself with hate and resentment wasn’t going to make the future any easier to live with. In a year’s time, she would have to leave home and she might never see her mother again. “I love you,” she gushed and pulled the queen into a hug, her lips pressing against raven hair.

* * * * *

The next ten months passed far too quickly for Emma’s liking.

No matter how many balls her mother tried to squeeze in, there was no lord, duke or prince who made her feel like she was floating on air and she quickly grew tired of the effort it took to fend them off. Her heart wasn’t in it and after the third ball in as many weeks, she had to insist that her mother stop. Emma wanted to enjoy her last few months at home, not feel like cattle at the market.

Instead, she took to riding out with her parents to visit the villages and enjoy being part of their family. Always, there were commoners to greet them with cheers and waves, and her mother would stop to chat and ask how they were fending with the year’s crops. Often, the yield had not quite met their quota and Snow would promise to send aid and ensure her people that she would not let them starve this winter. Emma admired her mother’s ability to spread hope and make the people feel at ease, even when they were struggling, but as winter arrived, she began to wonder whether hope and hand-outs were enough. At several houses, children ran about happily, all excited to see the horses and royals, but Emma couldn’t help looking at their skinny bodies and wondering why the villagers were struggling to begin with. She wondered how much her mother had spent on trying to find a husband for her and felt guilt gnawing at her insides. All of that wealth should have been here, feeding their people.

All winter she worried about it and at the first sight of spring, the restless princess saddled her horse and rode out with a small entourage of guards to see how the people were coping after the long, cold weeks. They smiled as usual and greeted their princess (and as far as they knew, future queen), but their efforts were decidedly lacking in enthusiasm and she couldn’t help but notice how those skinny children shivered beneath their inadequate clothes.

“What happened to the aid my mother sent?” she questioned a group of farmers who were searching through a pitiful supply of grain to sort out what they might have left to sow.

“Begging your pardon, highness,” answered a gaunt man who appeared to have dirt growing from under his fingernails. “But much of what wasn’t spoiled was taken by bandits.”

Horrified, Emma looked sharply round at all of their haggard faces. “Why didn’t anyone inform the supplier? We might have sent out another shipment.”

“We did report it, highness,” they told her adamantly. “Sent three messengers out to Lord Starling’s estate and he did send another wagon-load, but the same thing happened. When we tried again after that, he accused us of stealing the supplies ourselves.”

Furious, the princess rode back to the castle to report her findings to her parents, but not before ordering all of her guards to empty their food rations from their saddle bags and hand them out. As she handed her own to a small boy and absorbed the hero-worship in his gaze, she felt her stomach twist.

As expected, Snow and Charming were equally perturbed to hear of their starving subjects and ordered new supplies to be distributed amongst the needy. The queen summoned the land owners who were responsible for following her instructions and for once, Emma insisted on being present during those meetings.

Up until that moment, she had chosen to focus her education on the arts of war. Her parents agreed that knowing how to defend their home was important and indulged the preference, but now she wished that she had paid closer attention to all aspects of her education. From her childhood perspective, the responsibilities for the farmers lay with the lords and land owners, and the crown simply overlooked the quarterly figures to make sure everything was on track. That didn’t take much study, surely? She realised now that she should have been at those meetings and listened closer – listened for the lies – but none of her experience had taught her to expect such deception from their trusted allies. What shocked her the most though, was the way her mother dealt with the men and women who had failed in their duties.

Like the bad man, whom an adolescent Emma had overheard pleading with her mother for understanding and leniency, Lord Starling and the others like him told their own tall tales and assured her mother most avidly that they had not known how bad the situation with the villagers was. Every word tasted wrong to Emma and she was certain that the queen would strip them of their titles and privileges until they proved themselves worthy of their positions, but Snow did no such thing. She let them go. Worse, she wholeheartedly believed them and dismissed her daughter’s misgivings when she later voiced them.

Every day, it was easier to see how Cora Mills had manipulated the young Snow White into giving up information that got a young man killed and devastated a heart-broken princess. Her stubborn belief that people were basically good unless they were openly evil was the very thing that was starving their kingdom of life.

In an effort to placate her mother but also help their people, Emma volunteered, under the guise of learning more about being queen, to personally oversee the restoration of their food production. She visited every overseer weekly, monitored the goods which were being distributed for consumption and farming, and met at the other end as many wagon-loads of supplies as she could manage. Bandits were indeed a big problem and it struck her as odd that so many of them seemed to know exactly when and where to strike. As an experiment, she occasionally changed the route mid-journey and was unsurprised to find that there were no attacks before they reached their destination.

By late summer, the situation had improved drastically, the fields were covered with ripening crops and the people greeted her with more smiles and waves than ever, but time was running out. Only two months remained before Emma’s impending marriage and with harvest just around the corner, she feared what would happen if she left home before winter. She had not made many friends amongst the nobles and her mother had relayed their complaints to her with concern.

“Mom, they do not want my overseeing them because they’re corrupt and I’ve interfered with their schemes,” the princess insisted.

“I think you’re being a little unfair, Emma. They didn’t know that bandits were taking most of the aid we asked to be sent to the villages. You have to be careful, sweetheart. Accusing the people under you without proof is dangerous, and I can’t believe that they would cheat us or the people who rely on them. They would lose what they have too if the kingdom went bankrupt.”

Emma bit her tongue, deciding not to open the topic of organised banditry yet. She _had_ gathered evidence on that front though. “When was the last time you spoke with the treasurer, Mom?”

Snow huffed in a manner that said ‘I’m queen and I don’t like the way you’re questioning me’. “I have reports sent to me weekly, why?”

Emma felt a pain in her chest and closed her eyes briefly. “We _are_ close to being bankrupt, Mom, and the people under us don’t care. A couple of them do, I grant you, but not enough. In two or three years, with more failed harvests, we will have nothing left.”

The queen’s eyes widened comically. “Emma, that simply can’t be true!”

Feeling sympathy for her mother, who had never taken bad news well, the princess made an effort to soften her tone. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but if you want proof, you need to see everything I’ve been doing these last few months. Many people are as good as you think they are, but some are taking advantage of your good nature and you need to stop being naïve about it.” At her mother’s reluctant nod, Emma sent word to her father to meet them in the council chambers.

Snow pouted but listened dutifully as her daughter laid out all the evidence on the table. She expected a few scraps of parchment with names and suspicious activities that she could easily explain away, but the princess’ notes were meticulous and detailed. And eye opening. By the time Emma had finished, David and Snow looked as if they’d just been told that the sky was made of jam and that the evidence was irrefutable, only this news could very well lead to hundreds of starving people.

“It can’t be,” the queen muttered, her voice a great deal more subdued.

“Emma. Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?” Charming wondered, feeling put out that she had gone behind their backs. Even if it was for a good reason.

“She did,” Snow told her husband regretfully. To Emma, she added, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I… I just couldn’t believe that any of them would do this. I still don’t understand why,” she added, the confusion evident on her face.

Emma tried not to look at her mother like the queen was being wilfully ignorant, but it was a struggle. How could anyone of her experience be this green? Thankfully, her father was a little more world-wise and answered for her.

“For money, Snow.”

“But they _have_ money. They have comfort and positions of responsibility…” At the identical expressions of pity on her husband and daughter’s faces, she stopped. “Am I really that bad?”

David reached for her hand. “Emma’s right – you always try to see the best in people, but it’s time to look at some people in a different light. I’m at fault too, my love. I’m as guilty as you in allowing these people to take advantage of our willingness to trust. I think we just became too comfortable after the Evil Queen stopped attacking us,” he explained, mostly to Emma, but to himself too as he tried to understand how this had happened. “Peace was hard won and I guess we both assumed that the rest of our people felt the same as we did – that we shouldn’t squander it by inviting more hardship.”

“That’s a nice thought, Dad, but it can’t carry on like this,” Emma pleaded. It was easy to forgive them. Too easy perhaps; they were her parents and she loved them dearly. She knew that neither one would have an easy time with accepting that their lack of attention had let people suffer. Or that they had continued to enjoy such a privileged life while their people starved. “When I’m gone, you can’t just slap these people on the wrist and expect them to change.”

“I’m sorry that you had to spend your last few months with us in this way,” Snow said sorrowfully. “I’m not even sure what we’re going to do to see you off. We don’t have much of a dowry and we can’t afford any more balls,” she whimpered, the full force of the situation hitting the queen in the gut as she uttered that last word.

Emma wasn’t nearly so upset about those things though. “I regret the necessity of it, but I’ve learned so much while leading these investigations, so don’t worry about me, Mom. I would much rather be out riding and overseeing the farming than dressing up for a ball.” It was a comment meant to sooth the queen’s guilty conscience, but to her horror, her mother’s face fell.

“You will make a far better queen than I in that case, Emma.” With tears of self-pity and recrimination in her eyes, Snow stood and fled the room.

Emma sat in shock and a puddle of her own guilt until she felt her father’s arms wrap around her from behind. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know, Emma,” David whispered comfortingly into her hair. “Your mother knows it too, just give her time. We are both so proud of you.”

“Yes?” the princess asked hopefully. It was hard to tell with her mother sometimes since Snow’s reactions largely centred around what the queen was feeling for herself, but eventually she was sure she would hear those words from Snow too.

“Of course. And your mother is right, you will make a wonderful queen.”

The thought of her approaching birthday stabbed suddenly into her mind and she took several deep breaths. This leadership part of ruling had turned out to be more satisfying than she had anticipated. She was unexpectedly good at it too, but there were some aspects of being queen – of being Regina’s queen – that were growing more prevalent in her daily musings. Aspects that she was wholly unprepared for. Being a wife was not something that she could practise beforehand and the day approached when she would have to surrender every part of what it meant to be a princess.


	8. Mischief Managed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who's left a review so far. They're really helping to make my festive spirit gay and bright! ;-D

**Eighteen Years**

Regina considered her appearance in her full-length, bedroom mirror. Turning this way and that, she admired the cut, colour and style of the dress. It was close-fitting, the skirt brushing against her legs with every move, with a tailored jacket in green, and piping and embroidery in silver. No more did she worry about prying eyes from the other side of the mirror; the genie was long gone. Tired of his voice and the reminder of what she’d used him for, she had freed him and dismissed his services. But once out in the world, his obsession with her had quickly turned dangerous and so, with minimal regret, she’d found his lamp and imprisoned him once more. Let him be someone else’s problem, she thought.

The queen nodded. “It’s fine,” she decided and with a wave of her hand, transferred the dress back onto the mannequin, leaving her in one of her every-day outfits.

The leather trousers, shirt, jerkin and knee-length boots were her preferred clothes, suitable for a variety of royal duties, but a wedding required a dress and she was content with the design her tailor had picked. The only thing she had stipulated was the colour; a memory of excited green eyes enquiring about dragons appeared in her mind. The shade she’d chosen was as close to black as it could be before the colour was unrecognisable, but when it caught the light at a certain angle, it flashed, just like those eyes. Unconventional though the dress would be, she could hardly wear white, and though she wanted to be imposing for Snow’s sake, a small voice whispered words of caution. She didn’t want to terrify her bride too much.

“Now, show me what the princess will wear.”

Her tone made the tailor move swiftly to the door. He clapped his hands and prompted two assistants to push into the room with another mannequin, this one covered by a white sheet. She watched sweat bead at his temples and swallowed a smile. Since the announcement a week ago of her engagement to Princess Emma, she’d reverted somewhat to her sharp, unforgiving manner and many of her servants were suddenly jumpy around her. It was occasionally amusing but mostly tiresome. Granted, her transformation from Evil Queen to Queen Regina had been a long, sometimes painful journey, but was it really so easy for everyone to assume that she would flick a switch and instantly revert back?

The pressures of the wedding and the emotional turmoil that it brought with it were difficult to process, and it left her feeling tense and snappy. Pleas from Snow to drop the betrothal had fallen on deaf ears. The White queen’s visit shortly after Emma’s sixteenth birthday and then again, a month ago had not surprised Regina in the slightest; the contract was close to meeting its deadline and Snow was panicking, but if anything, her enemy’s characteristic whining only strengthened her resolve. Actions had consequences, and Snow White, more than any other person she knew, had never quite learned that lesson.

As the much-anticipated nuptials approached though, Regina found other thoughts invading her mind and giving her pause. All those years ago, she had never explained to her father the particulars of her deal with Snow. He’d asked but didn’t push when she rebuffed his gentle inquiries and had simply enjoyed the ability to be a father again. Since the announcement though, he’d hounded her with questions and concerns, until she yelled at him that she’d had enough and sent him away with a list of things he needed to do before the big day.

However, just because he no longer stood at her heel, monologuing every thought that came to mind, it didn’t mean that his words faded from the room entirely. She could still hear them playing on her conscience, niggling away and leading her to exhaustion. Was she doing the right thing? Unlikely. Would she do it anyway? Yes. Did that mean she was about to sink back into that soul-sucking darkness? She hoped not.

Living with evil as a constant companion had taught her much about control. Her alter-ego would forever be a part of her and that was something she had had to come to terms with, but balance came with its own rewards. Like letting steam out of a pressure cooker, she could aim her dark urges at those who truly deserved to be punished and kill two birds with one stone; her darkness was satisfied and justice was served.

In the case of Snow and her betrayal, the darkness wanted its payment, but a tiny voice wondered whether punishing Emma by default was the answer. That wasn’t balance and she felt the subtle shift within her heart. Why then did she find it so impossible to cut her losses and move on?

She’d mourned Daniel and the life she could have had with him. She’d mourned the children they should have had and the love that could have grown exponentially. She’d mourned for the innocent girl she had been and allowed herself to pity the monster she had become. She hadn’t forgiven Snow, her mother or her father for their transgressions, but she’d done her best to live with the scars. Learning to rule had taken over her life and given her a sense of pride that no one could take away from her.

But now, here was the deal she’d made – for a wife and Snow’s punishment all rolled into one. It was easier to blame the darkness than acknowledge that there were other mitigating factors at play here.

She would never admit it, but with her father aging more noticeably every year and an eternity of life to look forward to herself, despite the respect of her people and the few friends she’d made, she was lonely. Deep down, the idea of a companion – willing or not – fuelled this new drive.

Other justifications sprang to mind to ease her conscience too. The union would reunite a fractured kingdom. When the White queen eventually passed away, she could move her successful renovations over to Snow’s half and mirror there the prosperity her own people had achieved. The laws she had changed could be implemented on a larger scale, leaving less innocents in the hands of abusers, and further evolution of their society could begin. These were not ambitions to be dismissed out of hand – her friends had agreed as much – but these things could be achieved in other ways too. The Soft Queen, as some were calling Snow behind her back, would welcome Regina with open arms if she expressed a genuine wish for a truce, but that selfish, angry part of her that Rumpelstiltskin had nurtured all those years ago, wouldn’t let it go.

That left her with the one option she could stomach.

As the tailor lifted the sheet and revealed the dress that Princess Emma would be expected to wear, Regina’s thoughts returned to the present. Keen eyes appraised the garment, running over the subtle curves, dense lace and high neckline. The girl excelled at swordplay and was a fair archer, she’d heard; the lace shoulders would display her arms nicely without being overly revealing. She thought unwillingly back to her own wedding. No matter how much she had used her body to get what she wanted in later years, walking down the aisle towards the king had made her feel unbearably exposed.

She’d heard enough gossip to know that the girl usually attended royal functions dressed in something of her mother’s choosing, but she would be damned if she was going to watch her bride bob down the aisle in one of those monstrosities. It had been unusually tricky to find out what Emma’s preferred style was, but with patience and a few coins in the right pocket, she thought she’d manged rather well. All in the name of annoying her former step-daughter of course, not because she cared what her fiancée might think. For herself, she wanted elegance and just a touch of decadence.

_“Why would you go to all this trouble if you didn’t care about Emma’s feelings?”_ Abigail had asked her cautiously when they’d discussed it the night before.

_“Something worth doing is worth doing right,”_ Regina had answered, refusing to admit to any other motivation.

“Yes, that will do well,” she commented at last, relieving the tailor and allowing him to take a much-needed breath. “See that you fit her this afternoon. After supper,” she added, taking the man by surprise.

“But your majesty, the corset must be measured to perfection. Traditionally, fittings are taken before meals.”

“I’m aware,” the queen answered in a somewhat acerbic tone. “Have you ever worn a corset, Yan?” He shook his head ‘no’. “Are you now, or have you ever been a princess entering into an arranged marriage?” Again, he shook his head ‘no’. Without explaining, she simply repeated her instruction, “She will be fitted after supper.”

“I… Yes, of course, your majesty. Will that be all?”

“Yes, you may go,” she answered and watched his assistants re-cover the princess’ wedding dress before carting it from the room, after their master.

Regina released a long sigh, ran her hands through her tumbling hair and searched around for something to occupy her mind with next.

* * * * *

“I feel like we’re going to a funeral,” Emma grumbled to no one in particular as the carriage trundled along the road that connected Snow’s Summer Palace to The Evil Queen’s Fortress, the road that had once connected the two halves of the kingdom. “ _My_ funeral,” she added after a beat. “Can we not sit in silence the entire way? I’m nervous enough as it is.”

“We’re sorry, sweetheart,” Snow answered immediately. Her thoughts had been miles away, transporting her back to the journeys she’d taken with her parents and the journey that had culminated in a daring rescue, leading them inexplicably to this point in time. “Did you want to talk about anything in particular? Do you have any questions about tomorrow?”

In accepting that there was no way out, she and David had agreed with Emma that they would treat this as any royals might treat an arranged marriage. Treating it as something relatively normal had allowed their daughter some reprieve from the frantic hovering that had possessed Snow in the last few weeks. The teen was dealing with the situation far better than her mother, but she still hadn’t really slept since the announcement had gone out the day after her eighteenth birthday.

“I don’t really have a topic preference,” the princess answered automatically. After a moment of thought though, she reconsidered. “Actually, can we talk about how you’re going to handle Lord Starling and the others? I think I’m more worried about that than anything else that’s going on at the moment.”

David straightened in his seat. “Emma, we promise, we will take care of them. You gave us everything we need to strip them of their titles.”

“Or at least threaten them with it,” Snow added, unconsciously giving her daughter more to worry about.

“Mom, I really need you not to be soft with them,” the princess begged. “The kingdom needs you not to be soft with them.”

Looking between her husband and daughter, Snow eventually nodded. “They won’t get away with this,” she promised.

“Good,” Emma sighed with relief. “Now, tell me about Regina’s Palace. Are there any secret passageways I should be exploring?” she teased, bringing much-needed smiles to everyone’s lips.

The bumpy ride eventually took the trio through a valley that was walled on one side by a mountain range. Emma had never seen this particular part of her ancestors’ kingdom before and stared out of the window in fascination at the rocky formations. Admiration of the landscape soon morphed back into trepidation of the event to which they rode. Mountains and forest eventually gave way to a clearing and a winding rise to a towering fortress with spikes stretching skyward.

“Is that it?” Emma gasped as Regina’s castle came into full view.

Snow stuck her head out of the window next to Emma’s and sighed at the sight of her once-home. “Yes, Emma. That’s Regina’s home. Your home, now.”

The conflict in her mother’s voice drowned much of the princess’ awe at the appearance of the immense structure. “Yeah, I guess so,” she responded, her hand reaching for her churning stomach.

Cries from the wall rose as they approached and the gates opened to welcome them into the courtyard. Charming stepped down and helped Snow and Emma from the carriage. The White queen stepped naturally along the path towards the keep and her husband fell into step beside her, but Emma’s feet stumbled – unwilling beneath her body.

They didn’t just stumble though, they caught cracks and rocks in the ground, brushed against each other to put her off her balance, and found every deviation possible on the path up to the castle door, as if they knew how desperately she wanted to delay the inevitable. But soon she found herself inside the entrance hall, staring up at the high ceiling and gulping back the urge to vomit.

The brief tour and any comments made by her parents passed into oblivion as walls, doors and rooms blurred against her vision until, abruptly, she was standing in a room, overlooking the most fantastic view. “This room…”

A shadow emerged from the hallway and stepped into the room, bringing with it a stunning woman and a predatory smile. “Is yours, Princess,” came a dark, smoky voice. “How do you like it?”

Emma’s gaze swept the figure that cut the most imposing shape against the light and stopped at coal-rimmed eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and her body tensed; Queen Regina was more stunning and more intimidating than she remembered. Her mouth opened, but only the barest of sounds emerged.

Snow saved her daughter from the embarrassment of finding words and greeted their host herself. “Regina,” she said in her most clipped tone. “Thank you for rolling out the welcome wagon.”

“My pleasure, dear,” Regina replied, her menacing tone wrapping around the trio in a tight, smoky grasp. “I trust the view is to your liking, Princess?” she tried again, looking with particular intensity at Snow’s child.

Emma gathered every last bit of strength that she could find and offered a polite curtsey. “It is lovely, your majesty. Truly, a most breath-taking view.”

Regina’s eyes absorbed the discomfort in the room and revelled in it. “I hope you will be very… _satisfied_ … in here,” she commented, her gaze finding Snow’s reddening face with delight. Her attention shifted back to the princess and conflict flashed across her dark gaze for the barest moment. She needed to get out of there. “Well, I am glad that you are settling in. I have many things to attend to before the big day, but I will see you at supper. Do not be late.”

With that, the sorceress swept out of the room, leaving the Charming family in a state of inner chaos. Snow fumed, her face reddening further with the effort it took to hold it all in, David appeared somewhat green and sank slowly to the edge of the bed – before Regina’s comment struck him again and he jumped up in horror. Emma perched against the window sill and breathed steadily through her nose so that she wouldn’t lose consciousness.

* * * * *

Beyond the room, the dark queen stalked the corridors, her face a picture of twisted emotion. She had had every intention of putting the princess somewhat at ease with her brief visit but instead, she’d managed to do the opposite. The Evil Queen mask had slipped on easier than she’d anticipated – Snow White’s presence called to the darkness inside of her – but it didn’t feel as it once had. Regina itched beneath it, feeling confined and unclean. Perhaps her people were right to be concerned; perhaps it _was_ that easy to slip back into her evil ways.

The thought troubled her and she made her way directly to one of the guest suites where Queen Abigail and King Fredrick were staying. Despite her impatience to recover some sense of equilibrium again, she knocked and waited for her friend to answer. As the door creaked open and a blonde head appeared, Regina felt her mask crack.

Abigail’s compassionate, blue eyes instantly recognised the conflict on her friend’s face and she pulled the other queen into the relative privacy of her room. “What did you do?” she whispered not unkindly.

Regina’s eyes found everything but her friend’s searching gaze and blinked back little-acknowledged emotion. “She just brings it out of me,” she huffed in frustration.

“Snow?”

The sorceress nodded. “What am I doing?” she wondered aloud and pushed the heels of her hands against her temple.

“It’s a little late to be asking yourself that question now, Regina. The wedding is tomorrow.” Her tone wasn’t harsh but there was a clear note of admonishment there. “We decided you would focus on uniting the kingdom, remember? Not on torturing Snow.”

A dark head nodded once more but Regina’s hands clenched and unclenched with the effort to remain calm. “I just cannot see that face or hear that voice without wanting to rip into her. I wanted to make Emma feel at ease, but instead, I ended up implying that we would use her room to conduct our marital affairs.” Her teeth clenched at the memory. “That room is supposed to be a safe haven and I just made it into a place of nightmares. I’m no better than her grandfather.”

“You _are_ better, Regina. I know you. Later, you will apologise to Emma and explain your intentions properly. The marriage has to be consummated, of course, but it doesn’t have to be the stuff of nightmares. Whatever you choose to do after that is between you and Emma.” Abigail placed her hands on her friend’s arms and squeezed comfortingly. “I was shocked when you finally told me about your deal with Snow, but I still think that this union could be a good thing for everyone.”

“Why?” the dark queen wondered aloud.

Fed up of standing by the door, Abigail pulled the sorceress into the suite’s seating area and sat them down. “Most of Snow’s people still hate you out of loyalty to her. You have heard the rumours coming from her lands. Corruption runs deep there and you are in a position to make positive change – with Emma as your spearhead. Regardless of the fact that you can’t set foot over there, they hear your name and they think ‘evil witch, run away’!” she reminded Regina bluntly.

“Why am I friends with you?” Regina complained.

“Because I tell you what you don’t want to hear,” Abigail answered without preamble. “And sometimes, you know what’s good for you.” She looked at the weariness that had fallen over the other queen’s face and sighed. “If I thought I could persuade you to sleep, I would, but you will just toss and turn and be even surlier this evening. Would you like to ride out with me before supper?”

Grateful for the suggestion, Regina nodded. “Yes, I think that will help.”

* * * * *

Emma sat on the couch in her suite and resisted the desire to drop her head into her hands and groan. They had company and it would be unseemly. After the tension that rose following her fiancée’s visit, she didn’t need something else upsetting her day. Regina’s tailor had just arrived with her wedding dress and instructions for the princess to be ready for a fitting after supper, which had sent her mother into a spin. Not only did Snow dislike the design, but she disagreed with the organisation and continued to argue her point even after everyone had stopped listening.

“Those are the orders I’ve been given, Queen Snow. If you have issue with them, may I respectfully request that you take it up with Queen Regina,” the tailor interrupted the tirade finally and made his escape.

“Well!” Snow cried as the door shut on the rest of the world, leaving her family to themselves. “Can you believe this, Charming?”

“I’m not entirely sure that I understand your distress, love,” the king told her honestly.

“Regina is trying to make our daughter shapeless and… dull,” the queen complained readily.

“Corsets are normally fitted _before_ meals, Dad, so that they can be pulled tighter and make the waist smaller,” Emma explained patiently. It was a process that she hated, but that was the fashion and she was used to being hungry the day before a large function. Another reason why she enjoyed the day after; she could eat as much as she liked.

Snow nodded approvingly, unaware of her daughter’s inner monologue. “And just look at this dress,” she gestured to the mannequin. “There’s nothing in it – this should be a dress for a future queen. A royal wedding! Instead… well I don’t know _what_ this is. Where’s the volume?” she exclaimed, pointing at the understated A-line fall of material where the traditional hooped skirt usually sat.

Feeling a headache coming on, the princess couldn’t help the sharpness in her tone as she finally blurted, “Well, I like it!” The room fell quiet and she rubbed at the pain in her head. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I do.” She saw the pain and disappointment on her mother’s face and felt guilt stab into her chest. She needed some air.

Emma had no idea where her feet were taking her, but she found the interior of the castle stifling all of a sudden and needed to get outside. She tried to remember the way they’d walked to her room earlier in the day, but it had been such a huge blur that retracing her steps was near impossible. In a semi-controlled panic, she began to open random doors and peek her head around them to find out where she was, but after a while she realised that she was so completely lost that she didn’t even know how to get back to her room. When she stumbled across what looked like a small library, she sneaked inside and leant against the wall, trying to calm her racing heart.

All of the emotions she’d been dealing with the past year began to fling open the lids of their boxes and surge against her insides. Even the pride she felt at bringing back a decent crop to the farmers and discovering the underhand dealings of her parents’ so-called allies began to overwhelm her. The bombardment she’d experienced since setting foot from her carriage consisted of things she couldn’t identify let alone hold in, and the feel of them all at once was too much. Bile rose in her throat, black spots appeared before her eyes and her legs gave way from beneath her.

When she regained consciousness sometime later, it wasn’t the hard floor she felt beneath her but the soft cushions of a couch. Something wet and cold pressed against her forehead and she groaned in appreciation for the reprieve. That was, until she opened her eyes and found the reason for her turmoil staring back at her. An involuntary gasp escaped her mouth and she jerked upward. A warm hand landed on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down.

“Lie still,” Regina instructed firmly. “If you sit up too fast, you will pass out again.”

Emma did as she was told. The fact that her heart was racing again and her vision swam made her appreciate the gesture, but the queen’s attentions only served to confuse her more. “What happened?”

“From your mother’s frantic screeching when I returned home, and then finding you here, I assume that you ran away from her and then got lost. Snow’s tirades are enough to encourage anyone to render themselves unconscious,” she smirked. When there was no response to her inside joke, she changed the subject. “Are you prepared for tomorrow, Princess?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Emma answered automatically.

“No, you are not,” Regina scoffed, startling the princess from her conditioned answer. Green eyes stared up at her with a mixture of fear and confusion and she hastened to explain her blunt response, “I appreciate that you are doing your best, but by the very nature of tomorrow’s events, your life is being turned upside down and you have very little control over what happens. You will be expected to perform duties of which you have only the barest understanding. How can anyone prepare for such a thing?”

Emma absorbed the words and relaxed a little as she realised that she wasn’t being criticised. The queen was simply offering an honest opinion of her situation. “I… yes, you’re right.”

“Do you want to try sitting up now?” She watched the princess nod and held onto her shoulder lightly as she rose into a seated position. When it didn’t appear as if Emma would faint again, she tentatively let go, unconsciously shaking off the tingling in her fingers. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you, your majesty,” the blonde said as she tried not to stare at her unexpected saviour. This was not the woman who had stalked into her room, dropped innuendos on her and her parents that were designed to torture them, and then left them all in a state of shock. Was there a twin somewhere? Emma couldn’t account for the stark difference.

“Good. Now, what has prompted your mother’s latest tantrum?” she asked and rolled her eyes at the necessity for the question.

Up until that moment, Emma had forgotten that this woman was once an unwilling parental figure to her mother. She supposed that Regina had seen her share of Snow’s less than refined moments. “She doesn’t like the dress you had made for me.” Having expected an outburst, she was surprised when the painted corners of the queen’s lips turned up in a self-satisfied smile.

“That’s hardly surprising. I think the more important question now is, do you like it, Princess?” Emma couldn’t help herself; she nodded as a smile tugged at her own lips. “Snow’s opinion is moot then. Since you are the one who must wear it, yours is the only opinion that matters.”

“And yours,” the princess said without thinking and then immediately blushed.

Regina regarded her wife-to-be for a moment, admiring the pleasing contours of her face and the innocent but soulful depth of her gaze. “I doubt there is much that you would not look pleasing in, my dear.” A charged silence passed between them for a fraction of a second before the queen cleared her throat and abruptly stood. “You had best get back to your room… before your mother turns my home upside down looking for you.” She offered her hand and made sure that the princess was steady on her feet before turning on her heel and muttering a terse ‘follow me’.

As they walked in silence, Emma began to think about the dress again and her mother’s concerns. Would the dark queen really try to make her look less than her best at their wedding? Just to spite her mother? She thought about the compliment that had tumbled from those sinful lips. It hadn’t sounded like a lie, but then she knew that her overly-emotional state could impair her natural gift. Not knowing bothered her more than she cared to admit.

“A penny for your thoughts, your Highness?” Regina asked and slowed her fierce pace. She had just about recovered from that odd moment in the library and glanced at her companion to find a frown had fallen on those pale features. It would be easier to deal with any concerns the girl had without her mother around.

Startled green met the sorceress’ gaze and immediately softened at the more relaxed expression staring back. “I… If you don’t mind… Why did you insist on the fitting for after supper?”

The queen slowed further until they came to a stop not too far from Emma’s room. Like in the library, when she’d called the princess out on her state of readiness, there was a world of experience radiating out from the queen’s gaze.

“You are nervous; you have likely not slept or eaten properly in days. The last thing you need tomorrow is to be squeezed so tight that you can barely breathe.” She watched the gathering gratitude in those green depths and felt something like nervousness creep briefly along her own skin. Reacting to the uncomfortable sensation the only way she knew how, Regina tried to redirect the energy around them with her sass, “Besides, I do not want to spend _my_ wedding day holding damp cloths to your forehead.”

Emma blinked at the sudden change. She saw what she thought was uncertainty behind the queen’s eyes before it was covered over by something like apathy. She kicked herself for not at least smiling, but her stomach was still too tight with nerves to find humour in anything. They arrived at her door a few strides later and the queen pushed her gently inside along with a scathing comment to her parents before disappearing. She realised then that she was going to have to get used to these personality shifts.

She managed to make it through the rest of the evening without any more panic attacks and even managed a few genuine smiles at supper as Queen Abigail and King Fredrick worked tirelessly to break the tension between Snow and Regina. That night, when her mother finally left her room, the princess still didn’t sleep well, but at least one less fear played on her mind – as thorny and unapproachable as the dark queen was, Emma was at least convinced that her wife-to-be was not evil.

* * * * *

The hush that fell over the audience displaced Regina to another wedding, years ago. Her stomach flipped and she had to grip it with a figurative iron-fist to prevent the memory from taking hold. This was not _that_ wedding. This was _her_ choice and under _her_ control. When the doors opened at the opposite end of the aisle and King David entered with Emma on his arm though, her stomach flipped for an entirely different reason.

It had not escaped her notice that her young bride was a stunningly beautiful woman. Her intention had been to punish Snow White, irrespective of how the child turned out – they didn’t have to like each other – but Emma had sparked her interest and now Regina found herself in a situation that she had not considered. What if they actually managed to get along? What if the attraction became mutual? What if something deeper blossomed from this inauspicious beginning?

Scolding herself for such adolescent wonderings, the former Evil Queen composed a mask of regal indifference and watched her bride approach. Somewhere at the front of the crowd, her enemy watched too and she needed to put on her best show. If she had spent the odd moment of the last eighteen years imagining Snow’s tearful face on this day, she didn’t get chance to compare it to real life; despite her insistence on not turning this event into a fantasy, she found that she couldn’t take her eyes off the princess.

Emma’s hair had been fixed up into a relaxed bun, with a braid on one side and her veil pinned into the back, trailing down her neck. Regina’s eyes lingering on lace-covered, flushed skin. While kicking herself for her weakness, the queen found herself subconsciously admiring parts of the princess. Though Emma had a couple of inches on her in height, she’d chosen to wear her highest heels, which brought them to eye-level. Her bride’s vibrant, green eyes shone with uncertainty and nerves, but when they dared to meet her own, Regina really noticed how bold they could be.

For her part, Emma endured the discomfort of hundreds of staring eyes and clothes that were designed to pinch (no matter how considerate the tailor had been while taking measurements) by counting the tiles of glass in the window just behind and to the left of the dark queen’s head. She could feel Queen Regina’s eyes on her more than any of the others and it unnerved her. Even if she was beginning to feel less wary of the woman, the open attention reminded her of the many suitors she’d turned down, only this time, there was no escape for her. If this was to be her future though, she knew that she had to find a way to accept it. Memories of their brief time together in the library brought her moments of comfort and for a few seconds, she was able to look into brown eyes and wonder at how they might get along.

When the minister finished his long spiel, words and rings were exchanged and then soft, red lips were descending upon her own, stealing her breath.

Regina observed her new wife all through the ceremony and parts of the formal dinner. She couldn’t help it. Emma was clearly out of her depth, but she hid it well. On the odd occasion when it appeared that the blonde’s thoughts were beginning to overwhelm her, Regina found herself redirecting the conversation or asking a question to distract her. It was only much later, when she had remembered her intention to corner Snow and left the blonde to dance with Charming, that she managed for more than a few minutes to occupy her mind with something other than her bride’s radiance.

“Taking one last look while she’s still innocent?” Regina managed to sneer as she moved in on her former step-daughter standing alone, watching Emma dance with her father. “Before that light burns out and fake smiles are all she has left?”

“Regina…” Snow’s eyes closed in pain. They opened again and fixed on the dark queen pleadingly. “Don’t do this. You promised you wouldn’t hurt her.”

The sneer morphed into a slight grin – one which said ‘I enjoy your pain and I’m going to make it worse’. “On the contrary, Snow. I promised that I would make her married life as comfortable as mine was. It is not my fault if you failed to comprehend the full impact of those words.”

“But, you had everything…” the White queen protested, still refusing to allow her imagination to venture to dark places.

The grin dropped instantly from the sorceress’ expression and she bit her tongue to hold back the scream that begged to be let loose. She turned her back on the crowd slightly, keeping any hint of her own pain from public view and lowered her voice to its most dangerous register. “I had nothing of any worth! A gilded cage, the lecherous attentions of an old man and the wretched clingings of a loose-lipped child.”

“My father…” Snow began indignantly.

“Spoilt you. He gave you everything you ever wanted. Even a new mommy. But don’t begin to tell me what kind of a husband he was; you have no idea!” She hadn’t wanted to let her thoughts out this way, but the raw, unburied resentments that had festered inside her for so long would not be contained. Almost directly beside Snow’s ear now, her tone softened again, but lost none of its terrifying edge. “Did you and Charming roll around like weasels on your wedding night? Did you open your legs for him and beg him to cure that ache? Can you even begin to imagine the difference when the person you’re with makes you sick to your stomach?”

“Regina… I…” There were tears starting to make her eyes glassy now and she had to clench her teeth to hold them back.

“You can’t, can you? Because innocent, little Snow White lives a charmed life and can do no wrong. Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, they say. The very fact that you continue to cling to your rose-tinted world is the reason I offer you no reprieve.” Having said all that she wanted to about her own nightmare, and more, Regina composed her face and turned back to the music and couples twirling around the room. “Look at her. Dancing with her father, safe in his arms for now, wishing that the night would not come, wishing that the very people who were put on this earth to protect her were not the ones responsible for the misery she knows she must face. Her nightmare is just beginning. And that’s – on – you.”

A choking sound came from beside her and Regina looked with apparent nonchalance out at the crowd. “Smile, Snow. We must keep up appearances,” she taunted.

Leaving her enemy to whimper quietly to herself, the dark queen heard the tell-tale sign of changing music and swept across the dance floor towards her wife. The dancers parted as if by magic and with a gesture, the musicians lowered their instruments. Her hand reached out to rest on Emma’s waist and she felt the girl jump. Regina ignored the involuntary response and swallowed her own spike of guilt before addressing the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen! On behalf of myself and my new queen, we hope you have enjoyed the festivities.” Her voice oozed charm and her bright smile encouraged a round of applause. “The night is still young, but it is time we were away. Please, continue to indulge; we all know how rare my hospitality is.” A wave of laughter swept the room and a few, brave shouts of agreement accompanied the noise before it died away and a path was made for the brides to exit.

“Say goodnight, my dear,” Regina told the blonde as she guided Emma away from her father. “We will see your parents again for breakfast before they begin their journey home.”

This, she thought, was crueller than necessary, but any weakness or tenderness she showed in Charming’s presence would get back to Snow and for one night at least, she wanted her enemy to suffer some of the same torment that she had. She knew that her behaviour was undoing most of the work she’d put into making the princess feel at ease, but this was the moment she’d been waiting for. Her revenge on her former step-daughter was almost complete.

Her self-satisfied smile did not waver as she and Emma were escorted from the ballroom, but it fell as they began to make their way to the dark queen’s bed chamber. Something very strange was happening inside her and she had every reason to believe that it was her proximity to Emma that was causing her discomfort. She could feel her wife’s arm, heavy on her own, and the deliberate effort the blonde was putting into each step. This was Regina’s moment – her night to gloat over Snow’s misery – but any pleasure she found in her victory was muffled by the increasing concern and empathy she felt for the young woman beside her.

They reached her door and she offered Emma inside before dismissing the guards to the floor below, out of earshot. The door snapped shut behind her, the sound unusually loud in the sudden absence of revellers, and the blonde jumped in response. Dark eyes finally landed on the young bride and took some time to appreciate her beauty without interruption.

Regina watched as Emma’s gaze swept everything in the room except her and the bed. She remembered her wedding night with Leopold and the desperate need she’d had to escape, even as she knew that she was trapped. He had wasted no time in disrobing them both and though it probably hadn’t lasted very long, it had felt like an eternity in hell.

The queen already knew that she was not going to be so careless with Emma, but while she wanted to offer reassurance and ask if she was ok, Regina found herself uncharacteristically tongue-tied. As she drew closer, the blonde had no choice but to look at her and there must have been something in the queen’s eyes that scared her because she immediately reddened and looked away.

Regina wanted to look at those lips a bit longer and take a moment to replay their brief but tantalising kiss at the altar. She wanted to press her fingers into the back of Emma’s neck and pull her closer, but now was not the time and she sighed quietly to herself. “Turn around, dear,” she instructed gently. It was time to take off these gowns and slip into something a little more comfortable. With no servants present, she knew that it was up to her to help Emma out of her wedding dress.

Her wife turned and Regina once again found herself admiring the view. Fingertips trailed lightly over lace and bodice, thumbs brushing buttons but not moving to undo. Not yet. Desire rose in the queen, sharp and unexpected. How long had it been since she’d had a lover? Not since those first few months after her deal with Snow. She didn’t count the one or two aborted attempts in later years. How long since she’d desired someone who returned the feelings equally?

Daniel’s face flashed in her mind and fingers abruptly stopped at the base of a ribcage. Emma’s breathing was rapid and shallow. Fear or arousal? Finding her conscience and resolve again, Regina’s hands snapped open a dozen buttons, allowing her to push the garment off her bride’s shoulders. When it didn’t fall to the floor, she realised that the teen’s hands were still holding it close to her body.

“Drop it,” she ordered softly. Trembling, her young wife complied. “Do you know why you’re here, Emma?” she asked after a beat, finally finding her voice for more than just commands. She fingered the ribbon that held the corset in place and began to pull the loops from their knot.

“I… We… Marriages must be consummated before they are official,” Emma replied after a slow start, her eventual tone wooden, sounding like she was reading from a text book.

“Yes, but that was not my question. Why _you,_ dear?”

The new queen swallowed with difficulty. “To punish my mother.”

“Exactly,” Regina hissed. She waved a hand in the air and conjured a fur-lined robe. “Put this on and hang the dress in the wardrobe.”

She stepped back, towards her desk, her own hands tingling again with some unknown power. _What is that?_ She knew that her behaviour was confusing her companion, but there was little she could do about that until she had a chance to explain herself, so she waited for Emma to follow her instructions, keeping her gaze firmly averted from the admittedly tempting view. A small, nervous cough caught her attention and she turned to look the blonde up and down.

“Very fetching. Do you mind if I make myself comfortable also?” At the wooden shaking of Emma’s head, she waved a hand over herself and changed into something similar, only rather than the soft blush colour of the blonde’s robe, hers was a shade somewhere between silver and black. “Come, sit with me.”

Curious and calculating eyes watched the dark queen for a moment before the young woman did as she was asked and sat awkwardly on the opposite end of the couch, their legs no more than a few inches from each other. In a small voice, Emma braved conversation, “She told me what happened.”

Regina made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. “I’m hardly surprised. Snow doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut,” she spat, her reaction so ingrained in her now that she couldn’t have stopped it if she’d wanted to.

The change in the atmosphere reminded Emma more of their conversation in the library than the charged tension that had followed them from the reception. Her body still buzzed with a combination of fear and anticipation, the skin along her back tingling from the queen’s touch, but Regina had made no further motion to touch her or remove their clothes and she allowed herself to relax slightly. Digging into her reserves, she tried to be bold in her reply, “She thought I had a right to understand why I was being made to marry you.”

Rather than feeling offended or upset with the response, Regina managed find comfort in it and smirked slightly at the blonde’s directness. “I suppose _that_ I can understand.” She considered the former princess for a moment, her face twisting with her darkening thoughts. “Your mother played a large role in destroying my life. At this moment, I very much hope that she is sobbing pitifully somewhere. I hope she thinks that I’m stripping you of your dignity and robbing you of your innocence.” Her harsh voice turned into a whisper as she leant a little closer. “I hope she finally realises the magnitude of what was taken from me on my wedding night, and all subsequent nights I had to spend with that odious man she called a father.”

Emma swallowed again at the sheer intensity in the dark gaze that had captured her own. There was no part of her that wished her mother ill, but the words were spoken with equal pain as well as malice and for a split second, she wanted to reach out and pull the queen closer. To hold her and promise to protect her. She shook herself mentally. “Is that your intention?” she wondered anxiously, barely holding back the tremble from her voice. “To do the same to me?”

Regina leant back, her expression calming considerably. “No,” she answered at last. “Her crimes are not yours, Emma. I regret that you became a bargaining chip between us, but I have no desire to hurt you.” She noticed the relief that spread through the blonde’s body and continued, “I will not touch you unless you ask me to. Unless you desire it. But let me warn you…” Regina reached out with her right hand and wrapped it firmly under her wife’s jaw. Her grip was not hard enough to hurt, but it made it clear that what she had to say, she meant. “No one outside of this room can know that we did not lie together tonight. As you so rightly explained, no marriage is official until it is consummated… Do not force my hand, Emma, because you will not like what happens if you do. I will take no pleasure in it, but I have done far worse in my time.”

Green eyes flickered through several conflicting emotions until they settled on resolve. Emma nodded and the queen withdrew. “What do I do now?” she wondered, thinking that her… wife… might want to be left alone.

“You will stay here tonight. Take the bed, I don’t sleep much anyhow. I have business to attend to, but you may read, admire the view, whatever you want so long as you do not leave this room. Understand?”

Emma nodded and Regina stood to retreat to her desk near the window. The dark queen made herself comfortable and picked up her quill. “Good,” she muttered before diving into her work.

At a loss now that everything she’d expected from her wedding night had been turned on its head, Emma pulled her robe tighter and looked around the room, taking a deeper interest in the décor. Her body hummed still from the feel of fingers hovering over her skin and she tried to identify the foreign feelings that simmered beneath her relief. Was that… disappointment? She frowned. Maybe, but regardless, it didn’t change the fact that the muscles in her body were relaxing and the adrenaline, which had saturated her for days now, was slowly draining away, leaving her more fatigued than could remember ever being.

“Sleep, Emma,” the dark queen’s voice drifted from across the room. Brown eyes gazed with compassion and a head of dark, brown silk gestured in the direction of the bed. “No harm will come to you, I promise. You are safe here.”

Those words drained the last of the fight from the blonde’s body. Emma stifled a yawn and staggered from the couch. “Thank you,” she whispered with a tired smile. She wanted to touch the other woman, to offer more than words, but they were still basically strangers and she couldn’t find the strength to approach the forbidding queen.

Her head barely touched the pillow before heavy eyelids closed, leaving behind her world of duty and responsibility. She fumbled blindly for the quilt, not understanding when it covered her of its own volition but snuggling into it anyhow. Had she the presence of mind to understand just how completely she put her trust in the Evil Queen at that moment, she might have kicked herself, but as it stood, there was very little to worry about; dark eyes kept vigil over her the majority of the night – she was safe.

* * * * *

At breakfast the following morning, the first thing Emma noticed was the redness of her mother’s eyes and the way she hugged her, like she was delicate and about to break. The smirk on her wife’s face said it all, but for once, Regina didn’t offer any comment or try to torment the White queen further.

When she’d woken to the sound of voices talking in low tones, it had taken her a minute to figure out where she was, but she’d offered her wife and two other women a shy smile. Tilly hovered nervously behind a tall brunette, who she assumed was Regina’s housekeeper, and her demeanour reminded Emma that she was not the only one being uprooted. At least she and Matilda would have each other for company while they got used to their new surroundings.

Once they were alone again, she extracted herself from the cosy sheets and joined the queen on the couch. She had permission to ride out a little way if her mother wanted to reminisce before the journey home, but was reminded again about keeping their evening’s activities between them.

_“I do not much care if you tell them you enjoyed yourself or that I was an inconsiderate monster, so long as they believe that this marriage is binding,” the sorceress told Emma over tea. “I’m done wasting my energy on Snow White.”_

Emma’s own horse, Bracken, was already tacked and ready to go by the time the three Charmings reached the stables. Two other thoroughbreds were also waiting. The blonde had found a riding outfit in her wardrobe and pulled it on with the biggest grin she’d worn for months. Despite the situation, she was actually beginning to feel hopeful for this union and her future. In private, her wife was considerate and forthright – qualities she had always appreciated in her friends and family. She knew she’d seen the kind of interest in Regina’s eyes that often came from the men who frequented her mother’s balls, but the queen had not pressed her to reciprocate. They were starting their relationship from a place of trust and honesty, and Emma couldn’t help but feel excited about the prospect of a future with the ex-Evil Queen.

It wasn’t possible to hide the energy that possessed her as she urged Bracken through the thickening woods, feeling the guards and her parents struggling to keep up. She felt like she’d found a new lease on life – freedom from some burden that hitherto she had been unable to name. Since she didn’t want to waste the remaining time she had with her parents, she slowed to a trot before long and allowed everyone to catch up.

“Emma!” Snow called in something of a panic before she and David closed on their daughter. “What has gotten into you?”

“Did you grow up around here?” the blonde asked, hoping to diffuse the question, but she could see from the dogged look in her mother’s eyes that it wouldn’t work.

“Yes,” Snow answered curtly. “Are you alright, Emma? Did you… Did she…” She wanted to know exactly how much pain Regina had inflicted on her child, but from the way her daughter was behaving, she was too confused to find the words. “Are you alright after last night, sweetheart?” she finally managed to say in a whisper.

Emma looked around at the soldiers and levelled a look at them which expressed her wish for privacy. They’d been well trained, she noticed, and all moved off at an equal distance. It didn’t even occur to Emma to tell her mother the truth. Even if she loathed lying to anyone, especially the people she loved, she realised that she wanted to maintain the illusion of a binding marriage. “I’m fine, mom. Regina was very patient and considerate. It was nice. She didn’t hurt me.” _And that really isn’t a lie,_ she thought to herself, even as she knew how it would be interpreted.

“I’m glad, Emma,” David smiled with genuine happiness for his little girl. “Maybe this will work out well after all.”

Snow shook her head, like she was trying to dislodge a particularly difficult thought. “But, last night… The things she said to me,” she recalled, her eyes welling up just from the memory.

Taking pity on the traumatised queen, Emma nudged her horse forward and reached out to grasp her mother’s hand. “I think she just wanted you to understand, mom,” she said gently.

A staccato nod was the queen’s response until she could release a long sigh of relief. “Yes… I think you’re right.”

She recalled Regina’s words from the wedding _‘can you even begin to understand the difference…?’_ she had said. Well, all night long, she had tormented herself with thoughts of what her step-mother had endured on _her_ wedding night and all because she, Snow, had broken a promise. She had genuinely thought that Regina’s revenge would tear Emma apart too, but as she looked at her daughter now, she realised how little there was left of the Evil Queen.

“I’m happy for you too, Emma…”

* * * * *

_“…I am going to miss you terribly though.”_ Snow’s voice echoed through the mirror into Regina’s private study.

The dark queen waved her hand over the image of Emma and her parents, replacing them with her own reflection. The blonde had kept her word and Snow finally understood the magnitude of her indiscretion.

She sank back into her chair and closed her eyes in relief. _It’s over,_ she thought and allowed the lingering weight of Snow White’s betrayal to lift from her shoulders. For a moment, she missed it; it left her with a void much like she’d felt during her long period of depression, but this time, she had other things with which to occupy her thoughts. She had her prospering kingdom, she had a new, promising wife, and she had hope. Hope for a future where she wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be interested to hear what you all think to this chapter. It took a while to deliberate over which way to take it.


	9. Tasting Tension and Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we're going to take a big time jump now. No more time markers from here on out though.  
> Thank you for keeping me company with your reviews, they're much appreciated!

**Three years later…**

Tap-tap… tap-tap… tap-tap-tap…

Abigail huffed and threw a glare at her friend. “Regina,” she growled softly.

Tap-tap… tap-tap-tap…

“Yes?” the sorceress replied without looking up from where her quill continued to make indecipherable marks on the parchment in front of her.

Tap-tap…

“Regina!”

“What?”

“The heel,” Abigail explained. “You’re doing it again. I’m beginning to think that I’d get more work done with the children in the room,” she grumbled and placed her own quill non-too gently in its stand. “What has you so distracted? You normally devour these reports and have new plans all set out before I can even finish my tea.”

The dark queen shook her head and insisted it was nothing, but her gaze fell to the window and the position of the sun, both of which brought a spark of understanding for the blonde queen.

“Ah… Emma’s coming home today, isn’t she?” Abigail teased and leaned back in her chair. “No wonder you can’t concentrate. Why are you not on your way home too?”

Regina rolled her eyes and dragged her body into a more rigid position, looking every bit the business-like queen that she usually was. “That has nothing to do with my inability to work. If you must know, I was thinking about my father. His health is failing and we both know there’s nothing I can do to stop the expected.”

Henry’s mobility and enthusiasm for life had deteriorated rapidly since the beginning of summer, so it was only natural that Regina was worried, but Abigail doubted that was the reason for her far away expression and anxious behaviour. “Mm-hmm,” she made a noise that said ‘I’m not buying it’ but returned to her work.

Queen Abigail had been secretly delighted when she noticed the first stirrings of attraction between Regina and her young wife. Emma’s forthright personality had not taken long to break out of its shell and the disagreements she had with Regina had to be seen to be believed. Most who witnessed the clashing wives, saw a marriage that would end in disaster, but Abigail knew her friend better than that. Regina enjoyed the challenge and at the end of every argument, she would gaze at Emma with a particular fire in her eyes.

So, when a year passed and then two, without any hint of the tension breaking, she knew that she had to do something. For this last year, she had prodded Regina every chance she got – hinted at the passion beneath the charged moments with Emma and suggested romantic retreats, but if anything, her efforts had only made her friend less open to discussing it. Every time Abigail thought she was getting somewhere, Regina would pull back, close herself off again, and they would go back to square one. She had decided not to push the dark queen any more. Queen Regina could stare down the toughest negotiators, stand up to charging ogres and relentlessly pursue her enemy to ends of the earth, but she flatly refused to fall in love again.

The answer to this dilemma however, was not in persuading the Evil Queen that she could love, but that she could _be_ loved. In realising that, Abigail had a new target to pester and with winter approaching again, there was no time like the present. “I have business with your wife actually,” she began, as if the kingdom’s finances were the only thing on her mind. “I wonder, would you be willing to put me up for a couple of days?”

Regina shot her friend a suspicious look. “Of what could you have to talk to Emma about that I am not already aware?”

“About her mother’s trade deals with me,” the blonde answered readily. “I have had some complaints recently and since Emma is the one who set them up and is returning from Snow’s, I thought she might be able to account for the discrepancies and shed some light on the situation.”

With no apparent reason to refuse the request, Regina reluctantly agreed. “I suppose it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition.”

“Don’t make me feel too welcome, Regina,” Abigail responded, her tone laced heavily with sarcasm. “You might never get rid of me.”

Not one to be easily cowed, the dark queen scoffed. “I already can’t get rid of you!”

The blonde chuckled and set her quill down as she pushed her chair back from the table. “Well then, let’s pack this up and head out. We wouldn’t want to disappoint your queen when she returns.”

* * * * *

Emma sighed with relief as the familiar path gave way to tall spikes and the clean, austere appearance that her wife was so fond of. They’d started out from Snow’s before dawn and the sun was now past its zenith; the heat of the day was upon them, but a cool, early autumn breeze swept through the trees every now and then to offer respite from the baking sun.

Three years ago, she could not have anticipated a time when such a feeling of ease would exist, but here she was, eager to be once more in close proximity to the Evil Queen. As she thought about greeting Regina and hearing all that had passed in the time since she’d been away, a long, audible sigh tugged her frame and the many tense hours she’d spent with her parents seemed to fade into the background. “At last,” she whispered.

“Your majesty?” the head of her personal guard inquired curiously.

“Just glad to be home, lieutenant,” the young queen replied without taking her eyes off the vista. She urged her tired horse into a faster trot, eager to be back where she belonged. Bracken obeyed despite the long walk, as if she too could sense her cosy stall in the stable, and within a furlong, the castle gates were before them, welcoming them home.

Emma kissed her horse on the nose and handed her off to the stable boy almost as soon as her feet touched the ground. She gave rapid instructions on where to take the luggage she’d returned with, and then her feet were confidently and enthusiastically climbing the stairs to the castle entrance. Her heart raced for an entirely different reason from the first time she’d walked these halls. It was only as she began to recall those first, nervous steps that her pace slowed and reality settled on her.

“What am I doing?” she whispered to herself and came to a stop half way up a winding flight of stairs.

She was acting on autopilot, her body pulling her along on a mindless search for the one person who made her feel whole; who made her feel like there was more to life than just living. But the eagerness with which she’d returned home began to fade as she pictured Regina and remembered back to the day before her departure. The argument they’d had while working was not the sort that sprouted up because they’d simply had a difference of opinion – something related to their shared duties. Those arguments were par for the course and they both thrived on the challenge. Their last argument was much more personal and painful…

_The dark queen was in a bad mood. Emma cringed at the forceful scratching of a quill on parchment as her wife signed another document and added it to the growing pile. She hated upsetting Regina. She wished that she could take the other woman with her on her trip, but the spell that had prevented the Evil Queen from passing onto Snow White’s land twenty-one years ago was still in effect. Emma couldn’t take her wife to visit her childhood home, even when she desperately wished to._

_The reason Emma wanted to visit her parents so frequently was becoming an increasingly raw issue between them._

_“Do you need any help with those?” the blonde queen asked politely as she tried to find something to break the uncomfortable silence._

_“I can handle them,” Regina spat without looking up. “I was doing this before you came here, I will manage without you.”_

_The comment stung and Emma winced. There was so much going on between them lately. The comfortable routine that they had managed to establish in the first two years of their marriage was slowly falling apart, and it had nothing to do with the epic arguments that they sometimes liked to indulge in. While that gave them time to settle into a cooperative lifestyle and friendship, over the last ten months or so, a strange, addictive tension had begun to form between them; hyper awareness of each other’s presence and almost literal sparks if they accidentally brushed skin on skin. But increasing pressure from Emma’s parents was driving a wedge into the closing gap._

_Frustration battled with guilt for a moment before it won out and the blonde huffed. “Why do you have to do this every time I go away? Why don’t you just admit that you’re going to miss me!?”_

_Indignant, dark eyes snapped up from a boundary dispute and zeroed in on the blonde. “Miss you? I will enjoy the chance to work without you around to distract me! Run off to your incompetent mother and abandon your duties. I will do all the work, as usual!”_

_Emma’s hackles rose with the insult. “I work damn hard and you know it!”_

_“Fine!” Regina huffed, knowing that it was true and that it was also the reason for most of her ire. “But you cannot run your own kingdom and Snow’s, Emma. You think it doesn’t impact on me when you split your attentions between the two? How many hours do I have to spend correcting mistakes you’ve made because you can’t remember whose trade deals and profit margins you’re looking at!?”_

_“It wouldn’t be so difficult if you would just help me!” the blonde cried as she felt shame gnawing at her insides, joining the party of conflicting emotions._

_Now on her feet, her hands braced against the edge of the desk, Regina glared as her voice took on an all-too-familiar edge of quiet threat. “You want me to abandon the responsibilities I have to our own people, to help Snow White?”_

_The dangerous edge to the sorceress’ tone gave Emma pause. She swallowed any hurtful or petulant remark that was half-formed in her mind. With difficulty, she tightened her hold on the guilt and pain which sat in her stomach. She was stuck between her sense of duty to the people she felt she’d abandoned on her mother’s land, and the desire she had to be wholly involved in the responsibilities she shared with her wife._

_Every time she got involved in helping her mother, she felt like she was disappointing Regina, and over the three years they’d been married, there was nothing she wanted more than to see the dark queen smile and feel her approval. She wasn’t a fool; she knew what was happening to her and her heart leaped at the thought of finding love where she’d least expected it, but the tangled situation with Snow was creating a wall between them and with every new problem, another stone was laid._

_Tears sprang to her eyes and she sniffed them back, all of the fight draining from her body. She was tired and worried and felt completely useless in that moment. “I’m sorry, Regina. I will do better,” she promised as defeat made her body heavy. “I will prioritise our affairs before looking into any of my mother’s issues. And I can take with me anything of ours that isn’t urgent,” she stated and began to separate her papers into better organised piles. She felt eyes watching her intently and eventually heard the release of an exasperated sigh._

_“Emma, stop. You will do no such thing,” Regina ordered softly, this time with genuine compassion. “You have every right to visit your parents. In any other circumstance, I would be joining you and the paperwork would wait. I_ can _manage without you for a couple of weeks.”_

_“I don’t want to leave you with too much to do,” the blonde muttered remorsefully._

_Taking pity on her wife, the dark queen released her white-knuckled grip on the edge of the wood and reached across the joint desk for Emma’s hand. “You are the one with too much to do,” she told the blonde. “That’s what frustrates me the most. I meant what I said, Emma; you cannot run two kingdoms and nor should you have to. You’ve done more than anyone should expect of you and the more everyone coddles your mother, the less she will learn.” Knowing that her words were only likely to bring about another argument, the dark queen relaxed back into her seat and tried not to focus on Snow. “I respect your desire to help the people there. I just feel that, as long as the nobles there are allowed to continue their crimes unpunished, there is very little you can do. Sometimes, difficult decisions have to be made, and letting go might be one that you have to accept.”_

They had managed to end things on a tentative truce, but the wounds cut deep on both sides and there had been no time for apologies before Emma was riding from their home and looking back at the castle, searching every window to see if her wife was watching her go.

There was something wonderful and terrifying pulling them together, but also too many things pushing them apart. As much as she craved being close to Regina, she was afraid of being rejected, and with all the stress of dealing with her mother’s awful management decisions, she didn’t need yet another issue playing on her mind.

Even as her feet began moving again, these thoughts kept her pace slow, so by the time she reached the rooms that she and Regina employed to deal with the day to day running of the kingdom, she had her wayward emotions back under control. She pushed the door open, expecting to find her wife hunched over the desk, quill in hand, with an adorable frown pulling at her brow, but the room was empty. Confusion hit her for a moment – Regina was ridiculously anal about time management and spent these early afternoon hours in their office nine days out of ten. _Perhaps she’s not home,_ she thought in disappointment. Emma almost backed out of the room but at the last moment she heard voices from the adjoining room that they occasionally used for small meetings.

“Hello,” she said with a pleased tone as she opened the door and found Queen Abigail having tea with her wife. “This is a nice surprise.”

Regina’s gaze was warm as it passed over Emma’s body and the blonde felt a flush climb up to her ears in response. Her stomach flipped and it took all of her will not to rush across the room and… well, she wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to do first, but it involved skin and touching and was not something she could do in the presence of others. It was not even something that she could confidently say would be welcomed. She managed to smile back without ogling the brunette and moved to take the empty seat in the circle.

“You’re home early,” Regina commented as she sipped her tea and tried not to catch Abigail’s eye.

After deciding to pack up and leave her friend’s castle early, Regina had had to sit and watch as the other woman fussed over what to put in her valise for a night or two. It took far longer than she could stand and she was still convinced that Abigail delayed on purpose to tease her. Of course, the blonde queen couldn’t leave her home for two days without checking in on her husband and children either and though Regina normally savoured the time spent with the young prince and princess, she couldn’t quite enjoy it when she was anxious to be away. When everything was at last packed and ready, she did what she normally would have only done in an emergency, she used her magic to transport the two of them to the gates of her own home. The teasing had only increased since then but it was worth it to see the joyful surprise on Emma’s face.

She was beginning to hate Snow all over again for messing with her happiness. If the insipid queen was not so incompetent, then she could leave her kingdom for a few days, trespass on Regina’s hospitality, and Emma would not have to leave their home at all. These business trips, that took the blonde away for days and sometimes weeks, were the White queen’s latest insult. Each time, when Emma came home, she would be exhausted and full of worry. This in turn made Regina angry. No amount of criticising Snow would help the young queen with her plight, but old habits die hard and unfortunately, Emma was feeling the brunt of wounds resurfacing.

Just how deep that potential happiness might stretch was something that Regina avoided studying too closely. No matter how much Abigail teased or how often Emma gazed at her with curious contemplation, the idea of opening her heart again was almost unthinkable. She might not have Emma in every sense of the word, but what she had was worth protecting, even from her own destructive desires.

“How was your journey?” Regina asked once they were all settled. Unlike the lead up to her wife’s departure, where every part of her screamed at her to lock the blonde in her room and refuse to let her go, in this moment, when she returned and months stretched out ahead of them before the next trip, the ex-Evil Queen felt like she could relax.

“Fine,” Emma answered as she leaned forward to load a plate with snacks from the table. She wasn’t ready to tell Regina that she planned to make a return visit in a few weeks to see the harvest in. “I said my farewells last night and we set out before first light, so we made good time.”

“Eager to get home?” Abigail asked, her face a mask of friendly curiosity.

_Eager to avoid another argument with my mother_ , Emma thought, but instead said, “Of course. I missed the snark,” she grinned and popped something round and sweet in her mouth as the other blonde chuckled.

“Snark isn’t a word, dear,” Regina replied, her eyes narrowed. “And don’t eat too many of those; you’ll spoil your appetite.”

Slowly, while maintaining eye contact with the brunette, Emma slid a second morsel into her mouth. She’d barely finished chewing before her hand reached for another. She looked back at her wife as if to say ‘what are you going to do about it?’. Because they had company, she chewed properly and swallowed before replying, “Well, it should be a word; you have so much of it.” She could feel the heat of that gaze again and knew that she was pushing her luck as a third snack fell into her mouth. “And you should know that my appetite is bottomless.”

“ _You_ won’t be bottomless, Emma, if you keep doing that,” the dark queen huffed and tried hard to focus her attention elsewhere in the room. Her wife’s mouth caused a tightness in places that she didn’t want to think about.

That got Emma’s attention and she paused to think about the consequences, even turning slightly to glance at the body part in question. Eventually, she shrugged, answered, “More to love,” and picked up another delicacy. “You should have a few; you look like you could use a sugar rush. Long day?”

“Some people do not know how to pack light and take far too long to be ready to travel,” Regina shrugged elegantly. “I was bored of waiting; I transported us here without the entourage.”

“And that winded you?” Emma teased.

Dark eyes narrowed with annoyance. “It takes a great deal of energy to carry more than myself over such a distance.”

Abigail watched the back and forth with interest. How they had lasted for so long without taking their relationship to another level was unfathomable to her. Even as she enjoyed the entertaining exchange, there was something so intimate about it that part of her felt uncomfortable being in its presence. She needed to put a stop to this game before some innocent bystander got burned. “How was your visit with your parents, Emma? I’m here actually to discuss a deal we arranged with your mother.”

The young queen’s face fell, losing all of its playful defiance. She sighed. With anyone else, she would try to play it cool and pretend that she had everything under control, but with Midas’ daughter, she didn’t stand a chance of placating with stretched truths. “You’ve had complaints about the quality of the produce you’re receiving, haven’t you?”

Abigail nodded. “Shipments do sometime get spoiled. It happens from time to time and we all account for a small percentage of loss. The produce coming from Snow though…” She paused and looked to her friend with sympathy. “Most of it is not worth paying for. I have told my couriers not to accept the next load if the quality is not acceptable. I’m sorry, Emma.”

Emma suddenly wished that she hadn’t eaten anything – the anxiety, that she had worked so hard on the way home to let go of, crawled back into her belly. “You were good to accept the deal in the first place, Abigail. I apologise for wasting your time and money.”

“The impact will not be greatly felt,” the older blonde replied, waving off the concern. “How do you account for it though? I thought things were better.”

“They were. So far as I can tell, it’s not the farmers. They break their backs to make sure everything is good when it comes time to harvest; they know their lives depend on a good crop.” Emma stared for a moment at the sky and the distant peak of a mountain through the window. “It has to be a problem somewhere between the harvest and the delivery, but I can’t find the cause.” She wanted to say more about her suspicions, but sat between one foreign ruler and one who detested the topic, she was reluctant to share.

Regina recognised the struggle and bit her tongue. She knew she’d been directing her anger at the wrong person when she criticised her wife for taking on so much responsibility, but since Snow was beyond her reach, it was a difficult impulse to kick. Those dark instincts needed to go somewhere. Seeing Emma’s pain made her want to attempt to help somehow though.

“Abi knows about Snow’s poor choices in advisors,” she told her spouse after a few moments of thoughtful silence. Though she knew that tact and open compassion were not her strongest suits, the effort was there, so she was surprised by the irate glare from green eyes. Immediately, her tone became defensive but not apologetic. “She’s my friend and I thought she had a right to know.”

Emma bit her tongue and saved any reproaches for later, when they were alone. Turning back to Abigail, she wore her best diplomatic expression and hoped that she could explain. “I worked hard to bring them in line and my parents did follow through with their threats to strip them of titles if any were found to be involved in more deceptions,” she explained and couldn’t help a pointed look at the dark queen; her parents _had_ managed that much at least. “Lord Starling lost his lands the spring after Regina and I were married. The two autumn harvests after that were good, which is why I came to you with a proposal. I trusted you to be honest with any issues at the point of delivery.” She closed her eyes briefly, thinking back to some other sad truths that she’d uncovered. “Others have cheated us in the past – taking stock off the wagons and then complaining about light shipments.”

“Snow made reparations without investigating?” Abigail guessed.

“Not quite that bad, but she didn’t change the investigator or try to see it through herself when the problem didn’t stop.” It was a difficult reality to face, but the foreign queen’s understanding and patience did put her at ease enough to admit to something that had bothered her for a while, “I sometimes think that my mother was born to be a princess but not a queen.” Abigail smiled gently, her expression the picture of empathy, but a snort of derision from the other chair pulled another glare from Emma. Feeling tired all of a sudden, she stood and stepped around the table. “It’s been a long, hard couple of weeks and the journey back was exhausting. If you don’t mind, I’ll see you both for supper,” she said in a clipped tone and left.

With only the two of them remaining, Abigail picked up a cushion and threw it at her friend. Since Regina was still looking at the door with a confused frown on her face, she was caught unawares and took the full impact on the side of her head. The shock was enough to bring a glower to dark eyes.

“What!?”

“It’s no wonder you two are still dancing around each other,” the blonde cried with irritation, forgetting for a moment that she’d given up waving at Regina the obvious attraction she and Emma had for each other. “What was that? Are you still so hung up on revenge against Snow that you have to take it out on Emma?”

Regina threw her hands in the air. “Is it my fault that Snow cannot keep track of her own affairs?”

“No,” Abigail conceded. “But neither is it Emma’s and you’re treating her like it is.”

“I am not,” the dark queen protested dismissively.

“You’re her wife, Regina. Why are you not supporting her through this? I understand that you cannot accompany her on these trips, but are you not even offering her a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen, or trying to give advice?” the blonde asked with incredulity.

“I _have_ advised her,” Regina countered, but at a disbelieving look in response, she was forced to admit, “I told her that she couldn’t run both kingdoms alone.”

“You gave her an ultimatum? Told her to choose between you and her parents.”

Now Regina stood and began to wave her hands around as she moved around the room. “I have said no such thing.”

“Not in so many words perhaps,” Abigail replied, not the least bit put off by the dark queen’s agitated demeanour. “Emma is noble. And I don’t just mean that she was born wealthy. She will take on more than she can handle and she will shoulder that burden until it destroys her.”

Regina sent her friend another dark look. She didn’t need reminding of Emma’s workload – it wasn’t exactly easy to forget when it kept her up at night and dragged her from her comfortable little bubble when the blonde left for days. “Which is why she needs to let go.”

“Which is why she needs your help,” the blonde countered. “You may be too stubborn to acknowledge your own feelings, but I’ve seen the manner in which she looks at you. Do not make her choose, Regina, because neither choice is going to make her happy and if she chooses you, I fear she will only end up resenting you for it.”

“Splitting our attention between our kingdom and Snow’s can only be to the detriment of our people,” the sorceress argued, using the same reasons that she’d tried on her wife. When her friend’s eyes narrowed, she realised that Abigail’s experience would see through the excuse.

“That’s a lot of old twaddle, and you know it. Next to Fred and I, you have the wealthiest and most stable economy. If anyone can afford to loosen the reins a little and divert their attentions elsewhere, it’s you, Regina.” She watched the warring emotions behind dark eyes and sighed to herself. “If _that’s_ not enough to convince you, how about this: Emma is your wife and the sole heir to Snow’s throne. You and I, we thought long and hard about how your marriage would unite the kingdom again – stop letting your petty revenge get in the way of what you know you need to do.”

“Petty!?” the dark queen spat back. Her thoughts and feelings swirled like a maelstrom inside of her and the blonde’s choice of words hit a sore spot. She felt an old fire writhe through her fingers and she itched to throw a fireball at something.

“Yes, _petty._ ” Abigail rose from her seat to stand toe-to-toe with the fuming witch. “You don’t have the same tortured soul to use as an excuse to go off on a rampage any more, Regina. You won. But we both know that it wasn’t enough to fill the void created by Daniel’s passing. Your friends, your wife, your people, those things do. At this point, holding onto old grudges is only going to hurt you and Emma.” Seeing the obstinate set to her friend’s jaw, she decided to voice her own concerns over the state of affairs. “What if Snow’s kingdom falls? I’m sure you will have a lovely time gloating. Perhaps even five whole minutes,” she teased and watched a rueful smile tug at blood-red lips. “That sort of power vacuum is valuable to someone. Who? Who is behind these disruptions? Emma’s right, her parents were doing a much better job after she exposed the biggest perpetrators. If something more sinister is at play behind this, it affects all of us.”

“I hadn’t considered that.”

“I’m surprised, but perhaps I shouldn’t be. You are more emotion than logic at the moment.”

It galled her to admit it, but Regina knew her friend had a point. She was so set on drawing lines between her feeling for Emma and those against Snow that she was letting a potentially serious threat go unchallenged. Her antipathy towards the White queen had made it easy to believe that the only problem was the idiots’ stupidity and misplaced, goody-two-shoes attitude.

“Damn,” Regina muttered, losing most of the raging anger and replacing it with a sudden craving to dig deeper into Emma’s investigation.

Satisfied with herself, Abigail smiled smugly and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, that didn’t hurt too much, did it?”

“Careful,” the brunette grumbled. “It’ll be impossible to wear a good hat if your head gets any larger.”

“I’ll start a new trend for overly large hats, or perhaps very tiny ones,” she chuckled. A thoughtful silence passed before she became serious again. “You know you need to apologise to Emma, don’t you?”

A frown descended onto Regina’s face. “What for?”

“Back there, she was trying to be open about her conflicted feelings for her mother and you laughed at her.”

“I did not! _She_ was the one criticising Snow. I was simply sharing in the joke.”

“It’s not funny to Emma. It’s sad.”

“But _she_ made the joke.”

“Oh, sweetie… You need to learn to read between the lines.” The blonde queen thought for a moment as she tried to find the words to help her friend understand. They had confided many things to each other over the years and it didn’t take long before a thought occurred to her. “Your mother did terrible things to you.”

Dark eyes twinkled dangerously. “What’s your point?”

Abigail held her hands in supplication, appearing non-threatening. “You have every right to hate her, but sometimes, you still jump to her defence when we talk about her. How can you expect Emma to treat her mother as just another person when The Evil Queen can’t even do that with her hateful and sadistic mother?”

Since Regina was not the type to be easily shamed by her words or actions, when she finally conceded the point, she simply rolled her eyes and huffed. “Fine. I will let her know that I’m sorry she thinks her parents are such idiots.”

“You are impossible,” Abigail replied as she stood up to leave. When the brunette was in one of these moods, she’d learned that nothing could move her. “I’m serious, Regina. If you cannot find the words to comfort Emma, then I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself. Lest she lose any affection for you entirely.”

“I don’t need her to love me!” she yelled after her friend’s retreating form.

“Yes, you do!” Abigail’s distant voice called back.

* * * * *

Leaving Regina to fume and stew in her own thoughts, Queen Abigail trod a familiar path to Queen Emma’s private rooms. She knocked lightly on the door and after a long pause heard a faint ‘come in’. She entered the room to find that Emma had changed out of her travelling clothes into something more suited to wandering around her own home, and was lying propped up on the bed. A look of mixed hope and apprehension filled those green eyes, but when they recognised the visitor, disappointment quickly replaced it.

“You don’t need to check up on me, Abigail,” Emma told the other blonde, hiding her embarrassment well.

“Someone needs to, Emma. Since other people seem to be stuck with their heads in the sand at the moment, why can it not be me?” She moved to sit on the couch and waited for the younger queen to join her.

They both knew that Regina was a large part of those ‘other people’. Abigail wanted to get stuck right into the main reason for her visit, but after what she’d heard, there were other more pressing matters to attend to first.

Abigail placed a comforting hand on her companion’s knee. “How serious is it, Emma? I’m asking as a friend, not a trading partner.”

Emma smiled gratefully. “Thank you. I don’t blame Regina for not wanting to get involved. Most days, I wish I didn’t have to be involved either.”

“Hmm,” the older blonde made a noise of acknowledgement, not wanting to openly agree with the first part at least. “I will help in whatever way I can. You should not have to be doing this alone.”

“I can’t give up,” Emma replied, her voice cracking at the mere thought. Her wife’s cautions about trying to do too much reverberated round her head.

Abigail squeezed the knee that was still beneath her grip. “I’m not asking you to. I hadn’t appreciated the severity of the issue before, but now I want to get to the bottom of it as much as you do. Hopefully, after the conversation I just had with her, Regina will come around too.”

Emma groaned. “What did you say to her?” If she tried hard enough, she could almost feel the barely-restrained rage through the castle walls from wherever the dark queen paced. “I don’t want another fight. I hate it when we fight.”

The older queen canted her head to one side and sat back in her seat. “From what I hear, you fight all the time. Seems to me as if you both rather enjoy it.”

That observation brought a tentative and fond smile to pink lips. “That’s not fighting. That’s… spirited debate.”

The smile dropped as she realised that it had been a while since they’d indulged their passions in that way. The last time had been particularly energetic and Emma was sure, when Regina leant close to her and the tension literally crackled between them, that they were going to kiss. But their council members had chosen that moment to arrive and Regina had composed herself so quickly that it made Emma’s head spin. Since then, and since she’d chosen to get involved in her mother’s business again, the dark queen had backed away from all their playful moments and laced most their disagreements with cruel sarcasm instead.

She considered Abigail’s original question. No matter how friendly they were, she was reluctant to share personal details with the ruler of a neighbouring kingdom. She still remembered her tutors instilling in her the importance of professional distance with nobles from other houses. Not all would be scrupulous considering the ingrained pressure for every king and queen to keep their own lands prospering, and even those who could be trusted to deal fairly had to put their own kingdom’s welfare first, but Emma had no one else to turn to and she was fast running out of options.

“It’s serious,” she began at last, and once the top was off the bottle, everything came pouring out. “The money and goods aren’t getting through to where they’re needed, and what is getting through is unfit for purpose. When I left three years ago, things were dire, but my parents were willing to do what was needed. Now…” she hesitated, a pained expression crossing her face. “Each visit seems to get worse. In the spring, when I told them about the difficult winter in the villages, they were interested – or, pretended to be at least – then when I went back at the beginning of summer, they hadn’t done anything and denied knowing that there was a problem to begin with. This time, when I questioned them about progress… they told me I should stop interfering.”

“That’s… well, not easy to believe.”

Emma nodded in agreement. “That’s not them,” she insisted. “I know they’ve been too lenient in the past and don’t have the drive that you and my wife have, but despite what Regina thinks, they can lead. Something else is going on and I need to find out what.”

“Yes. I quite agree.”

The two blonde queens swapped theories for a while until Emma’s stomach growled loudly and both decided that it was past time to eat. Regina didn’t join them and the disappointment on Emma’s face was more profound than ever. So much so that Abigail made a mental note to throw more cushions at her friend the next time she saw her. Cushions filled with rocks. When night drew in and the dark queen was still a no-show, they decided to call an end to their day and bid each other goodnight, but not before Abigail left the younger queen with something more to think about…

“Emma,” she began softly as she held the guest-suite door. “Try not to take her bad moods to heart. You don’t deserve to be the focus of her demons, but you scare her, and it’s not a feeling that sits well in her mind.”

Emma’s mouth opened and closed for a few seconds without sound. “ _I_ scare her?” she managed at last. “How?”

Abigail smiled warmly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You are the best thing that has happened to her in a long time, Emma. Think about it.”


	10. Resistance and Crumbling Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Abigail has her work cut out for her...

Regina paced until every last bit of anger had seeped from her body. Something had to be done to repair the rift she’d created between her and Emma. She’d known exactly what she was doing but had refused to admit that she might be wrong. Allowing her possessive tendencies to make logical arguments for her was not the best idea in hindsight. Her selfish desire to keep Emma near had blinded her to her wife’s needs and had had the opposite effect to what she’d intended.

Guilt-laden ultimatums had been one of her mother’s favourite methods of manipulation and Regina well recalled how much she’d hated them. Had she really sunk so low?

Her thoughts were still too jumbled to face Emma and she really didn’t want to listen to any more of Abigail’s opinions on her love-life, so she climbed to the next floor where her father spent all of his time now. She and Emma visited three or four times a day when they were at home, which was another thing she had utilised to try to keep her wife from her trips. Henry loved his daughter-in-law like his own child and with increasing frequency, he asked the couple when they were going to find the magic to give him a grandchild.

Heirs were expected from every royal – it was how their political system survived, but with Regina’s immortality, there was no rush for her to reproduce. This didn’t prevent them from blushing every time it was mentioned though. She did want children and so did Emma, but it required a level of intimacy between them that became more daunting with each passing day.

Often, the dark queen wondered if she should have just taken Emma on their wedding night – it might not have grown into such an awkward and emotionally charged thing between them – but then she remembered how the blonde had trembled and held her dress tight to her body for protection. It could just as easily have ruined any chance of trust. Before Snow had placed a wedge between them, there were moments… Moments like Regina had never known. It was so different from the adolescent stirrings she’d felt with Daniel. She knew desire now. She knew why certain parts of her body throbbed and knew where she wanted Emma to touch her.

Physical desire was something she could deal with. After ridding herself of her husband, she’d taken her share of lovers and learned how to get the most pleasure from them. What made her hesitant with Emma had nothing to do with the physical act of sex and everything to do with the desire she had just to be close to her wife in any capacity. When she woke from dreams where strong arms were holding her in her sleep and found her bed empty, she felt equal parts relief and disappointment. Love had the potential to destroy her, perhaps for good this time, but like a moth to the flame, she couldn’t help herself.

Feeling it, acknowledging it and acting on it were each very different tasks in Regina’s mind. She felt it and her body acted on instinct, pulling her as close to Emma as she could be… before she had to acknowledge that what she felt went beyond lust and not wanting to be alone. If she acknowledged it, she would be tempted to act on it, leading her back to feeling – only this time, on a whole new level where the stakes were terrifyingly high.

It was simple really. If she didn’t take part in the vicious cycle, she wouldn’t end up once again in that vulnerable place where someone could so easily rip her heart out and crush it.

This plan wasn’t entirely fool-proof though; her heart hurt now and had been hurting steadily on and off for months.

As her gaze landed on her father, who was sat on his balcony – bundled up into a blanket and enjoying the evening sun, she felt that same ache in her chest. She stood for a moment, just watching his profile. She ignored the maid, whose job it was to care for the ailing man in the afternoons, and took tentative steps forward. Not until she heard the closing of the door did she take a seat next to Henry. Unless her father was particularly ill that day, the carers left her alone with him, hovering on the other side of the door until the queen departed.

They sat in silence for a while. Him gazing out at the breath-taking scenery, soaking it up while he still had chance, and her doing the same with him. Eventually though, his eyes tired and drifted until they landed on the queen.

“Regina?” he asked, his face scrunching as he tried to decide if she was really there.

“It’s me, Daddy,” she replied and reached out to hold his hand.

“My little princess.” He smiled as he patted her hand. “Have you seen the sunset?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” she agreed softly.

“Quite a romantic evening, don’t you think?” He ignored the eye-roll that followed and gazed at her the same way he had with the vista, only this time, with more reverence. “My sunset is coming soon,” he stated gently, his hands squeezing hers.

Regina resisted the urge to tear her hands out of his grasp and run away. “Daddy, don’t,” she pleaded instead.

“Ah, mi querida. Avoiding the inevitable will not make it go away. It is my time. I am content with that.”

“How can you be? You’re leaving.”

“Your thoughts will keep my memory alive, Regina. I am content because I know you will not be alone.” His gaze wandered and he looked past her, as if studying a memory. “When you were chasing Snow, I worried for you. You treated the darkness as a friend. As something to wrap around your heart to protect it, but you couldn’t see how alone it made you. Now, you have found the light again. You have worked so hard, mija. I am so proud of you.”

The queen sniffed and tears broke their dam. She sat for a while, holding her father’s hands and sharing the sunset with him. They talked about the stories he’d told her as a girl and the rides they’d taken together on their estate. They touched on the times they had defied her mother’s instructions and stolen cakes from the kitchen or played a game instead of studying, but talking about Cora all too often led to regret and guilt for Henry, so Regina steered him back to their shared memories of the more recent past.

All the while, the queen’s mind flickered between Emma and Snow, trying to find some way to reconcile her need to separate the two. When she finally bid her father goodnight, she retreated to her war room and hovered over the large map which depicted the kingdoms and their borders. Some changes she’d made since her days of throwing soldiers at her enemy, but mostly the map was unaltered. Abigail had annexed a tiny portion of George’s lands and the ogres had destroyed a sliver on the edge of Maurice’s forest, but the bigger changes were in the population growth and trading.

She leant on the edge of the table and considered the problems that Emma had been investigating. Now that Abigail had pointed out the potential disaster waiting for them if darker forces were at play behind Snow and Charming’s failures, she could not help but imagine the plots and schemes that would be needed to pull off such a feat. Trailing her gaze along the boundary that she still could not cross, she pictured the forest and all of the potential hiding places for thieves and ne’er-do-wells. She studied the estates and their positions in relation to the villages. She envisaged the backhand deals and how easily they could be carried out if the crown was not vigilant enough.

Seeing the criminal process was not the difficult part. What concerned her the most, was Snow’s lack of action. She had quite happily believed that her former step-daughter’s stupidity was the cause of her problems, but she was ashamed to admit that her own wilful ignorance had blinded her to the severity of the issue, and it didn’t take a great leap of thought to wonder whether Snow and her shepherd were not living entirely of their own free will.

With a deep sigh, Regina put away her guilt and regret. They wouldn’t help her in moving forward and she needed a clear head for the next steps. Wanting to leave Emma to sleep off some of the exhaustion from her trip, she found her wife’s records – from the investigation she’d started three years ago, to the most recent. It was clear that the blonde had put a lot of effort into finding out as much as she had, but the dark queen could immediately see where gaps had hindered her progress. They were either things that Emma didn’t know to look for, or pursuits for which she lacked the resources.

Regina worked long into the night, reorganising her wife’s notes and adding suggestions for where they might want to focus their attentions next. She was only vaguely aware of having missed supper, so when a boy from the kitchens nervously pushed a plate of leftovers onto a table by the door a little before midnight, she managed to summon a genuine smile.

After squeezing in a few hours’ sleep, she bathed, drew her hair into a plait and dressed in something that was suitable for both desk work and riding. As much planning as she’d managed, she couldn’t predict what Emma would want to do next, and after hearing Abigail’s telling off, her subconscious had had an epiphany.

When she made it to the dining room, her visitor was already enjoying a cup of tea and fresh scones. “Morning,” she greeted as she sat in her usual seat and reached for the fruit.

“And where were you last night?” Abigail replied, her tone scolding. “Emma was practically asleep at the table before I could convince her to go to bed. She refused to let you go hungry, whatever you were doing instead of looking after your guest.”

Regina stopped chewing for a moment and looked up at the blonde with no hint of remorse. “You invited yourself to my home under the guise of wanting to talk to my wife. I wasn’t aware that I had any involvement in that.” Considering the matter closed, her voice softened as she asked, “Emma sent the food?”

“Yes,” Abigail answered curtly. “If that had been Fredrick and he had ignored me all night long, I would have given it to the staff or the dogs.”

“Well, I’m glad that Emma is my wife and not you then.”

“Don’t take her for granted, Regina. She deserves better.”

To the visitor’s surprise Regina backed down first, her expression melting. “I know. You were right about my feeling getting in the way of my logic. Last night, I was reading through her investigation.”

“You couldn’t have told her that?” Abigail sighed at her friend’s need to make everything difficult.

The dark queen hid her uncertainty behind a mask of calm reproach. “I wanted to be prepared and thought she might as well have the evening to recover.”

“You are so single minded sometimes. Next time, just leave your cave long enough to say goodnight. I imagine she probably tossed and turned, worrying about you instead of ‘recovering’.”

Regina paused with an apple half way to her mouth. “I’ll take that under advisement,” she replied, feeling once more out of her depth as she was forced to consider how her actions might have been interpreted by Emma.

Abigail’s expression was unforgiving as she stared down her friend. “Please do.”

Regina chewed thoughtfully through the rest of her meal, taking her time as she waited for Emma to join them. An hour passed before the hope faded from her eyes. _Enjoying the uncertainty, your majesty?_ a voice niggled at the back of her mind. It stung, to feel rejection, but no more so than the knowledge that she deserved it. When she finally realised that Emma was standing her up, either intentionally or because she just didn’t want company, she offered a terse apology to her friend and left for her office. Burying herself in work would have to be enough; she couldn’t afford to waste time with regret.

Abigail couldn’t decide whether to smile or glower when Emma sneaked into the room almost as soon as Regina departed. “I’m starting to see why three years hasn’t been enough for these two,” she muttered to herself. To Emma, she lifted her voice, “You just missed her.”

A sheepish look crossed green eyes as Emma slid into her usual seat and began to pile food onto her plate. “Was she mad? I just couldn’t face her yet.”

Taking pity on the young queen, whose eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion and who had no idea what Regina had spent her night doing, Abigail sipped her tea and gestured casually at the mound of food between them. “Eat your breakfast and get your strength up. When you’ve finished, I’m coming to see Regina with you and she can explain herself to you.”

True to her word, the visiting monarch took Emma’s arm the moment she looked replete and all but dragged her from the dining room.

Emma grumbled to herself as they moved closer to the work space she shared with her spouse. She was still smarting from the brunette’s inconsiderate reaction the night before. After her trip and her conversation with Abigail, with all of the worries that should have been prevalent in her thoughts, it was Regina’s snide remarks about Emma’s parents that kept her awake most of the night. The dark queen’s refusal to join her for supper was yet further evidence of the rift that was forming between them and her heart hurt to think of what they were losing because of her divided loyalties. She was angry – with Regina, with her parents, but mostly with herself, and she didn’t know how to face Regina in this state without starting another fight.

“Why don’t we serve wine with breakfast?” she lamented, thinking that numbing her feelings was an attractive prospect at that moment.

The older blonde paused at the right door and smiled gently at Emma. “It’s probably for the best. You are going to need all of your faculties today.” Abigail pushed the door open without knocking and announced, “Look what I found!”

They discovered Regina hunched over her desk, her head resting heavily on one hand. At the intrusion, the dark queen startled slightly, but she quickly regained her composure and straightened in her seat. The beginnings of a disapproving frown pulled at her features, until her friend’s words and the sight of Emma hit her. Nervous fingers brushed non-existent creases from her outfit and brown eyes looked everywhere but at her wife while she gathered her senses.

“Emma,” she greeted her spouse at last. “Have you eaten? I can have someone send something up,” she suggested, her body already half out of her seat.

“No!” Emma answered sharply, a hand reaching out as if to physically stop the dark queen from taking the trouble. They both knew that Emma was more than capable of asking one of the servants herself, but Regina’s offer touched the young queen anyway. “I mean, yes, I’ve eaten.”

“You had breakfast?” the brunette asked in confusion. “When?”

“Just now. Abigail told me I’d just missed you,” Emma replied as her brain searched frantically for the words that would also explain her earlier absence without lying. “I had a rough night. I was late getting up.” _All true, if not entirely related,_ she thought and held her breath. She caught a split second of something behind her wife’s eyes – pain? regret? – but almost as quickly as it appeared, it was gone again. “I’m here now though. Abigail seems to think that there’s something pressing for me to attend to?” Her eyes scanned the documents already set out on the table but it looked like the usual fare.

Before Regina could answer, Abigail held up her hands for attention. “That, my dears, is my cue to leave you be for a while. I know that I came to speak with Emma regarding our deal, but I don’t think we will get any further until you’ve hashed this out some more, so I will go and entertain myself until this afternoon.” Without waiting for a response, she left the couple alone.

Emma’s confused frown rounded on her wife. “What did she mean by that?”

Regina held up a finger as a silent request to finish what she was doing and Emma waited patiently. Once she was done, she led the blonde from the room and back to where she’d spent the majority of the night. Most of the papers she’d found in her wife’s bag and desk were positioned in strategic piles over the giant map, each with a figurine sat on top, its shape representing information therein. It was Regina’s turn to hold her breath as Emma began to understand what she was looking at.

A report on organised banditry, which she’d only received that week, caught Emma’s eye and she reached for it, running a finger over its edge. As she looked around, she thought about her wife’s absence from supper and suddenly realised what Regina had been doing all evening. She couldn’t tell whether the brunette’s efforts were an offer to help, a lesson on organisation or something else altogether, but seeing all of her work displayed together across the map brought a tightening to her chest.

There was so much of it – years’ worth of her life displayed in neat piles – and she knew that this was just a sliver of the full scope. She’d thought that she was managing to make headway on her own, but seeing it all before her and knowing the limit of its impact, she realised that her wife was right – it was too much for one person. Was that why Regina was showing her this, to gloat?

“Emma?” the dark queen prompted gently.

She had watched the conflict erupt from the blonde’s thoughts to her face and felt a new wave of guilt pass through her. Green eyes were seeing through a screen of confusion, defeat and now the beginnings of anger, and she had to know what was going on in that pretty, blonde head. She took a step closer and reached out to touch her wife’s arm.

Emma’s head snapped up – she was ready to unleash all of her grievances on the brunette for daring to act so superior – but the depth of compassion staring back at her, the likes of which Regina seldom allowed, it gave her pause and instead of the litany of bitter insults that sat on the tip of her tongue, a sob escaped her throat.

“It’s too much,” she cried and closed a hand over her mouth. After several seconds of shuddering breaths, she added, “I can’t do this alone.”

She had been so proud of the dedication she put into saving her mother’s people. She’d made a promise to herself to keep going until every man, woman and child could live without the constant threat of starvation hanging over their heads, but now she knew that it wasn’t enough. She would never succeed on her own.

Regina wrapped her hands around the blonde’s upper arms and squeezed in an effort to offer some level of comfort. She kept her expression free of the self-loathing which bubbled up from inside and forced a calm, business-like stoicism there instead. “No, you can’t,” she replied bluntly. The heart-breaking devastation that twisted Emma’s features in response to those words burned a hole through Regina’s chest and she hastened to correct the assumption, “But together, _we_ can.”

A louder sob tumbled from the blonde then, and Regina jumped at the feel of strong arms around her neck and a lithe figure pressed abruptly against her own. As she wrapped uncertain arms around Emma’s back and became the blonde’s anchor, her carefully constructed control cracked.

Emma’s warmth and light spread through her body, filling her from head to toe.

* * * * *

**The edge of the forest and border between Snow White and The Evil Queen’s kingdoms…**

“What’s taking so long?” an impatient voice cut through the night air, its weight deadened by numerous trees.

Another mouth opened to reply but the distant approach of hoofbeats stopped it in its tracks. Two sets of eyes peered into the darkness, the pale moonlight just making out the shape of a rider. Hands reached for swords and held them aloft in case the newcomer was not who they expected, but the tension eased rapidly when a fluttering banner caught a shaft of light and they recognised the insignia.

“About time,” the voice muttered and sharp steel slid back into scabbards. “Did you get it?” he called out quietly once the rider was alongside.

“I got it,” a triumphant voice replied. The rider shifted in his saddle, fumbled around with a sack-like shape behind him and then pushed it from the back of his horse. The sack hit the ground with a thud and a groan.

“Right, we’ll take it from here. You know where to go to get your payment.”

A grunt of acknowledgement was the only reply as the horse was turned about and urged back through the blackened trees. On the ground, the sack breathed but otherwise remained still. A coarse hand reached for the tie and pulled back the neck of hessian to reveal the profile of an aged but still ruggedly handsome face.

“Well, hullo, Prince Charming.”

* * * * *

Emma recovered slowly from her outburst and reluctantly withdrew from her wife’s arms. Beyond the profound relief she felt and the wonderful tingling all over her body, confusion and anger crawled back into her mind. In her agitation, she thought about everything that had passed between her and Regina since Emma first became involved with her mother’s business again. She began to pace. “What about abandoning my duties and our people? What about splitting our responsibilities and not being able to run two kingdoms? These are no longer concerns you have?”

Regina’s mouth opened and closed. “I…” How was she supposed to handle the apology that she apparently needed to make? She listened to her own words thrown back at her and cringed. Had she really sounded so sanctimonious? There was a certain irony there considering the person she had been trying to avoid with her refusals to help. She stepped back to give herself room to breathe, away from the magnetic pull of the blonde’s touch and the irate energy crackling across the room.

An energy that she was beginning to recognise… But that was a concern for another time.

“Emma,” she began in what she hoped was a tone of contrition – it had been so long since she’d let herself apologise for anything. “I was wrong. I wanted to believe that I had the moral high ground, so I did believe… But I was wrong.”

The blonde’s eyes closed and she breathed slowly to clear her thoughts. It wasn’t the resounding ‘sorry’ that she thought she deserved, but the struggle behind those troubled, brown eyes spoke volumes about the effort it had taken to say those words. “Alright… What changed your mind?”

“Abigail,” the brunette admitted with a wry smile. “She did what I couldn’t; she listened. What you had to tell her gave her some concerns, which she shared with me.”

“What!?” Emma blurted, feeling off kilter again. “If she had concerns, why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“Dear, I’m certain that she was just allowing you to recover from your trip. She told me because she wanted me to stop being blind to a potential disaster.” Seeing that her explanation was just causing more confusion, she gestured to the table. “Emma, you’ve obviously worked hard on this. I knew that you were stretching yourself thin, but I didn’t appreciate the scale of what you were attempting. It’s impressive, but you are young and inexperienced; there is writing on the wall here that I would have seen had I swallowed my pride and helped.”

Emma felt the sting of criticism, though she knew that Regina hadn’t meant it that way. She had put her heart and soul into doing everything she could and it hurt that it wasn’t enough. “What writing on the wall? Show me what you’re seeing.”

The dark queen nodded and walked Emma round the table, explaining her theories behind the strategic attacks on Snow’s resources. “Do you notice how the bandit raids are concentrated on our border? I suspect there are two reasons for that. One, it deters the common folk from getting too close, and two, it gives someone a potential stronghold should you and I decide to send forces of our own. I don’t believe that grain is of any interest to whoever is orchestrating your mother’s downfall.”

A new level of fear struck the blonde queen and her eyes flicked rapidly over the map, looking at the picture with fresh perspective. “So, what’s happening to the grain if it’s not just the work of greedy landowners?”

Dark eyes gazed into the map, as if they could see beyond the facsimile. “Starving Snow’s people puts a strain on the kingdom’s economy. Your mother is renowned for taking money from the treasury to feed the people when times are hard. A generous solution to be sure, but a short-sighted one. Even without her penchant for elaborate balls, that’s not a sustainable way to run a kingdom.”

“I’ve seen you send aid,” Emma responded in a knee-jerk fashion to what she thought was yet more criticism; Regina had never shied away from insulting Snow when she could. It was something that the young queen had had to get used to. “Last autumn, when Wood End had a infected harvest, you provided everyone with food and… found out how to… plough and treat… the fields…” she trailed off, realising that the brunette had not stopped there. Strict quarantine between villages had kept the blight from spreading and the dark queen had personally ridden to neighbouring villages, taking a horse that had never set foot in Wood End, to check on the overall health of the harvest there and to appropriate a small percentage of crop to fill orders. Unlike when the Evil Queen was building her army, the people were more than happy to support her.

Not like Emma’s mother, who thought that full bellies for a few nights would get everyone back on their feet again. “Never mind.”

“You know better than anyone how little regard I have for your mother, but she was spoilt and given almost no instruction in how to deal with these kinds of situations and, much as I would like to, I don’t entirely blame her for lacking in foresight. Still, the fact that she continues to ignore the problems? That concerns me,” Regina responded readily.

“Oh?”

“Snow may not like to admit when she’s wrong…” The dark queen caught a strained expression on her wife’s face and rolled her eyes in acknowledgement. “Something we have in common; I know. But I have never known her to stand by when others are suffering. How did she seem when you saw her last?”

“Abigail didn’t tell you that?” Emma asked with renewed annoyance.

“No, she only told me enough to encourage me to pay attention,” Regina replied and gazed hard at the blonde, telling her without words that the snippy comments were not helping.

Green eyes drifted away as Emma took another steadying breath. “Cold,” she replied with a soft sadness. “Like my being there was something she had to endure. She told me to stop interfering.”

A nod followed that information before the brunette probed further. “Was she like that when you arrived?”

“Sort of? There were smiles and hugs like usual, but there was something… off.”

“Like she was putting on a show?” Regina didn’t like where her thoughts were taking her, but she had spent many years living with a manipulative woman who often pretended to feel affection and she knew the signs. She had also spent years _being_ that manipulative woman.

“Yes.”

That wasn’t what the dark queen had wanted to hear. “And your father?” Was he as weak beside Snow as Henry had been with Cora?

The blonde considered the question, taking a few moments to really think about his behaviour. It was hard to pick out anomalies when she had been so focussed on her mother’s pig-headed stubbornness. “I think he’s just trying to keep the peace. He was quiet most of the time. Occasionally, he tried to promise that he would follow up on my concerns, like they did before, but my mom kept interrupting and insisting that I was stretching things out of proportion.”

Regina sighed. “Emma, I think we might have to accept that your mother is under someone else’s influence.”

“Like who?”

“That, dear, is a very good question, and one we are going to find the answer to,” she promised, adding ominously, “before it’s too late.” If her suspicions were correct, they were in big trouble, but it didn’t bear thinking about when there was no proof yet. “Have you no other contacts within Snow’s circle?”

“I… the only two I trust are Red and Granny. The guards, dwarves, fairies… they’re all too loyal to my mother and since I moved here… since I married you, they don’t trust me.” She shrugged like it was not a big cause for concern, but there was hurt in her eyes. The kind that spoke of betrayal.

Regina instantly felt that stabbing guilt again, knowing that she was at fault for ripping the blonde from her home and friends. “Emma…”

“No,” Emma stopped her with a smile that was a little less forced. “That’s one thing you don’t have to be sorry for.” She met her wife’s gaze and her smile warmed for a moment before she looked back at the table. She had never discussed her feelings about her forced marriage before and she wanted Regina to know that she appreciated the unique position she’d been given. “This year has been… difficult. But the two years before that, and right now? Well, I didn’t ever imagine that I would have such freedom to just be me. I know that, as queen, my mom does what she likes, and others like Abigail managed to find a partnership where their authority is respected, but how often does that happen? No princess I grew up with ever aspired to being more than a wife. Balls and princes were never amongst my interests, no matter how hard I tried to please my mother. You and I?” She shrugged. “We started on rocky ground – it could easily have been a disaster on either end, but you gave me something that I don’t think anyone else could have. You took away one choice, and that was awful on your part, but you gave me so many more in return.

“We’ve lost something recently. I think you wanted me to choose you over my mother. That’s pretty awful too, but I don’t think you did it consciously. Regardless, you’re still my best friend, Regina and marrying you was the best decision I didn’t make.”

While she chuckled at the attempted joke, Regina tasted the word ‘friend’ and damped down her disappointment. She wanted to dig deeper and ask what Emma thought they’d lost, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her heart soared to know that she had made the right decision even when her motivation to marry Emma had been tainted by revenge. There was potential there if ever she found the courage to seize it. They had bigger problems at present though and that was a good enough excuse for her to avoid a more onerous conversation about feelings.

“I wanted revenge on Snow, and I got a taste of it, but the greatest thing to come out of that deal was you, Emma. You’re my best friend too… Just don’t tell Abigail.”

A watery smile lit the blonde’s face before she cleared her throat and re-directed her gaze back to the table, fire brightening her eyes. “I think that’s enough mushy stuff. How about we find out who’s trying to destroy my birth-right and make them pay for it?”

“Sound right up my alley, dear,” Regina replied with equal enthusiasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress at last? We can't have that... ;-)


	11. Old Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing the cute interactions in this chapter. Enjoy.  
> 

“This is stupid,” Emma grumbled for the tenth time.

“It’s your birthday. It’s not stupid, dear.” Regina replied with forced patience.

The blonde huffed and looked at herself in the mirror. “It just doesn’t feel right… celebrating something like this when there’s so much we need to be doing right now.”

Regina approached her wife from behind and locked eyes with the blonde through the full-length mirror. “I know there is much for us to do at present, but I am perfectly capable of organising an informal birthday dinner for my… friend.” To look busy, she began fussing with the outfit Emma had picked out for their journey. It was the same one the blonde had chosen to wear her first day as a married woman. The brunette admired the sharper definition of muscle beneath the leather while she wondered if there was any significance to the choice. “The outer reaches of the kingdom annex Abigail’s borders, so we may as well visit. And while we are there partaking of our friend’s hospitality, celebrating your twenty-first birthday will be… efficient,” she explained calmly. She saw a hint of shadow behind green eyes and thought she knew what was really bothering the blonde. “We have to eat and rest, dear. It won’t take any time away from the investigation, and once we’ve solved this crisis and your mother is back to her usual, annoying self, I will invite your parents to a celebration in your honour.”

Emma turned to face the brunette. “Okay. I hope you’re right. You know I’m not one for balls and parties usually, but it will be nice to dance with my dad again. I haven’t done that since our wedding.”

“Perhaps you will also save a dance for me?” Regina wondered before she could stop the words tumbling from her mouth. She prepared herself for an awkward rejection but instead heard a light chuckle and felt the quick press of lips against her cheek.

“Besides my dad, there is no one I would rather spend my evening with. I’d say dancing with you is guaranteed.”

A moment passed where Regina just stared at the blonde and it was only when a shy smile crossed Emma’s lips that she suspected the presence of a rather supercilious grin on her own face. Horrified at this lapse of control, she dropped her hands from where they’d been playing with her necklace and excused herself by going to check on her father.

Emma watched her go until the door clicked shut behind her. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her imagination replay the moment. It was happening more frequently; the normal movements of daily life were becoming ever more interwoven with long stares and fleeting touches, which were driving the young queen to distraction.

Emma thought back to the first two years of marriage and recalled her initial awkwardness as she tried to figure out what Regina expected of her; the joys and humiliations as she set about learning how to run the kingdom with her wife; and the slow but strong friendship that had grown between them. She recalled looks and touching then too, but not with this intensity or depth of feeling. Back then, lust had lightened the dark queen’s gaze, while Emma’s (more often than not) had shied away with embarrassment. Two long years had coloured Regina’s carnal desires with warmth of feeling, and allowed Emma’s passions to stir.

It had seemed certain that their relationship would take a turn towards the physical. With her dreams increasingly full of kisses and her waking hours spent admiring, it would not have taken long before she gathered the courage to slip from her bed one night and cross the short length of corridor between her room and her wife’s.

But then the troubles with Snow’s kingdom began and the lustful stares stopped. It was as if, in reminding Regina of her former enemy, she began to see Emma not as an individual but as a product of her parents and another piece to be fought over.

Their recent reconciliation and renewed closeness were welcome changes from the almost continuous struggles of the past year, but Emma had noticed a significant difference in the way her wife looked at her now; with more longing apparently came more hesitation. Something… some fear… was holding the sorceress back and Emma knew that she needed to be particular with how she treated her wife at this time. With no frame of reference for what might work though, she was stuck with hoping that time and patience would help. It had worked in her favour after all.

Regina was back to her composed, impenetrable self by the time they were packed and ready for their journey. She sat astride her mare, looking impeccably put together in her favourite tailored jacket and leather trousers, her eyes offering only the barest hint of amusement as Emma floundered slightly under her gaze. Once the blonde was settled in the saddle, Regina gave the command and followed their lead guards from the castle towards the forest, whose trees were fast gaining colour with the light of dawn. Having foregone the luxury of a carriage, they were able to make better time and reached the far edges of their land by mid-afternoon.

The last village before the border was aptly named, Queen’s Rest. Emma had seen old maps of the area and knew that the name was relatively new, but when she’d tried to question her wife, all Regina would say was that the people who lived there were foolishly sentimental. It hadn’t escaped the blonde’s notice that the villagers were subtly attentive and never failed to anticipate their queen’s wishes. She couldn’t help but wonder what had inspired such loyalty.

Emma kept pace beside her wife, enjoying every moment of their welcome into the village. One of her secret pleasures on these visits was to watch the way Regina handled her people… Their people.

The dark queen was ever professional, her expression giving little away, but Emma had grown used to the signs of emotion that simmered constantly behind brown orbs. She saw the concern when there were problems to be addressed; pride when there was good news to be had; bone-deep longing when children braved their queen’s imposing gaze to offer something of themselves – a personal triumph or trinkets made specifically for the monarch during their skills training.

Friendly greetings were offered to Emma too, but not as wholeheartedly and the difference always put her in mind of her first tour of her wife’s kingdom...

_Six months passed before the newly married couple managed to travel as far as their most distant homestead. Through late autumn and winter, instead of her usual journey across the land, Regina made time to teach her young wife everything that Emma needed to know about her kingdom, leaving her most trusted advisors to make the trip in her stead._

_“Is there nothing you wish to ask me? Nothing you wish to know of my expectations?” the dark queen asked Emma over dinner at the end of their first full day together. Snow and Charming were gone and the future stretched on before them._

_Emma hesitated and met her wife’s gaze. It was the very question that had tormented her for the last twelve months. “Beyond today. As Queen’s consort, what do you expect of me? What will my duties entail?”_

_Regina gestured for Emma to continue to eat and outlined the changes she’d made in her kingdom over most of the last two decades. She explained the system of education that she’d introduced for children and adults to find vocations best suited to their talents – how skilled craftsmen were provided to pass on their knowledge wherever people were interested in learning, and how she relocated families to neighbouring villages when demand for learning outstripped supply of skilled teachers._

_She explained the system of justice and the difficulties in maintaining balance, emphasising her intolerance of certain crimes and the harsher punishments she met out personally. She explained the defence towers in each village and the garrisons which supplied varying levels of protection, from seasoned and highly trained soldiers, to casual ‘muscle for hire’._

_When Emma could eat no more, they walked up to the fourth floor and stood looking out of one of the vast windows which lined the corridor._

_“That way,” Regina pointed directly past their gates, “beyond the forest, lies the first of my kingdom’s homesteads, Wood End. Beyond that, a half dozen more. They continue to grow and the task of managing them becomes more onerous with each passing day. To begin with, I expect you to learn all you can about the upkeep of such an enterprise. Eventually, you will take on more responsibilities, until the workload is equal. I will not tolerate a lazy wife who lives only for frivolity,” she warned._

_“I understand.” It was more than Emma could have hoped for. A purpose beyond the role of ‘pretty possession’ or ‘broodmare’. “What about my mother’s people?”_

_Regina’s gaze settled on the blonde in surprise and not a small amount of distaste. “They are her responsibility. Surely, Snow White has managed to spread happy endings to all?” she sneered. “Trouble in paradise?”_

_The animosity in the brunette’s voice took Emma by surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t have; the dark queen’s amiable demeanour took a downward turn each time the White queen was anywhere close by. “No,” she answered stubbornly, not wanting to admit to the disruption she’d left behind._

_Regina rounded on the young queen and levelled a hard stare her way. “Do not lie to me,” she demanded with a dangerous intensity that would make most people soil themselves. “I may not be able to set foot on your mother’s land, but I am more than capable of gathering information. Her people have lived in poverty for far too long.”_

_Emma’s hackles rose at the insult. Her mother was a good person who loved the people and would never intentionally hurt anybody. “You are the one who burned their homes and livelihoods!” she accused._

_The dark queen’s eyebrow rose at the anger in her wife’s tone. She couldn’t dispute the allegation but a lot had changed since then. Either way, it wasn’t Emma’s fault that her battle with Snow had caused so much damage and she softened her words again. “True, but a year or two should have been ample time for them to bounce back, with the right support from their queen. I accept no blame after that.”_

_Once more caught off guard by the swift change, Emma scowled lightly at the vista and allowed those words to sink in. They had already discussed her keeping in contact with her parents and visiting occasionally. If Regina had no intention of helping, then she would simply have to continue as she had before her marriage. In the meantime, she would hold on to the hope that her parents had enough information to take care of the problems without her. Since it seemed like the topic was non-negotiable, she returned her focus to their conversation. “When do we ride out?”_

_“Not until spring,” Regina replied, glad to have talk of Snow out of the way. “You have a lot to learn before then…”_

_Spring arrived and with a head full of new information, Emma rode out with Regina on the first of many visits. Over eight weeks, they saddled up and journeyed further and further from their home to meet and greet with their subjects. Everyone treated Regina with reverence and respect, not one of them showing fear or uncertainty in her presence, but not all treated Emma with the same openness and for the first time in her life, the blonde felt criticism for being Snow White’s child. She considered the possibility that their dislike was due to the dark queen’s lies about Snow when she began hunting the White princess for treason, but according to her mother, none of the peasants had believed a word of it. No, it had to be something that ran deeper and she wondered what their lives had been like under her grandfather’s rule. ‘One day,’ she thought, ‘I might be brave enough to ask Regina about this.’_

_Whatever the reason, distrust shone from more than one pair of eyes and Emma realised fairly quickly that she was going to have to earn the respect of these people – it wasn’t going to be given to her on a silver platter as it had been most of her life._

Three years had opened her eyes to so many things. These visits provided yet more evidence of the failings of the White kingdom. Emma saw now what her childhood home had lacked and she desperately wanted her parents to see it too. Now that sinister forces were suspected to be moving behind her mother’s throne, Emma had hope that one day soon, when the darkness had been defeated once more, she could invite her parents to visit and educate them on what happiness looked like for the masses, but first they had to find out who was pulling the strings.

When they reached the centre of the village, both queens dismounted outside of a longhouse and handed their reins off to one of their escorts. Emma followed her wife inside and gratefully accepted the refreshments that were offered. Unlike what Princess Emma had been used to on visits to villages, these people had food to spare and prided themselves on catering to any guest. Knowing that her wife wouldn’t take anything for herself other than water, she picked out several baked goods that she knew they would both like and sat the plate between them as they took their respective seats at a large table.

Regina eyed the offering and shot a raised eyebrow at her wife. “No thank you, dear,” she answered the unspoken question and pushed the plate away from her.

“One won’t kill you, Regina,” Emma whispered back. She picked up a small pie and took a bite from it, being careful not to shove it in her mouth too quickly, as had become her habit at home. They were still waiting for everyone to be seated, so she didn’t think their quite tete-a-tete would do any harm. “They’re really very good.”

“I’ve already eaten and I wouldn’t want to spoil my appetite for your birthday celebration later,” the dark queen protested.

Emma’s mouth worked rapidly around the food and she swallowed with a large gulp of water. “We ate four hours ago when we stopped for a break. I doubt we’ll have our next meal for another two or three hours. Do you really want your stomach to start growling while we’re discussing our plans here?”

Regina’s eyes narrowed with playful mischief and turned so that her face was inches from Emma’s. “It wouldn’t dare,” she stated emphatically.

The blonde queen’s throat tingled with some unknown force and her gaze flicked between the brunette’s eyes and lips. She swallowed with difficulty and chuckled through her sudden nervousness. “Of course, stomachs too bow down to your will.” Turning her head slightly, so that her words could find a path directly to her wife’s ear, she lowered her voice further, “Don’t think that I’m above feeding you in front of all these people. Stop being stubborn, Regina and eat the damned pastry. Treat yourself for once.” Returning her attention to the people now all seated around the table, she pushed the plate non-too-subtly back across the divide.

“Fine.” Regina rolled her eyes and picked up the smallest morsel that she found before popping it daintily into her mouth. The flavours burst on her tongue and she made a quick mental note to order more for their journey home, but other than some careful chewing, her expression barely changed. “Satisfied?”

A triumphant and insufferable expression crossed the blonde’s face. She had seen the spark of surprise and enjoyment in dark eyes and knew that she had won this battle. “Absolutely.”

“Gentlemen and ladies,” Regina began as she ignored Emma’s silent celebration. “My wife and I are here today to discuss the potential threat against our kingdom and the progress of preparations thus far. Does anybody have anything they would like to add before we begin?” Three hands rose into the air and kicked off the meeting.

As the furthest line of defence from the castle, Queen’s Rest had the honour of hosting the largest of Regina’s deployed forces and were in the best position to offer up to date information on their neighbours. She employed more soldiers than any other kingdom, but because the majority also worked as labourers, it wasn’t always obvious to outsiders that they were so well fortified. Some might have thought it a happy coincidence, but over the years, the dark queen had seen the potential for growth in more areas than one and knew that if she ever was attacked, the element of surprise was not something to be underappreciated.

This was also the reason that her kingdom could boast (if it so chose) the highest number of spies. Many circulated amongst her own people, giving the queen a truer picture of her people’s grievances than her advisors were sometimes willing to admit, but a few were reserved for foreign affairs. Unknown to all except the dark queen, one sat at the table and she was particularly keen to hear what the woman had to say.

“Your majesties, some of the bandits terrorising Snow’s villagers are the same ones that plagued your lands years ago,” the fiery redhead told the queens from her position half way down the table. “On my recent return from trading at the market in King George’s kingdom, I visited a tavern and recognised some of the men there.”

“Did you hear anything important from them?” Queen Emma asked as she sat forward in her chair.

“They were talking about delivering a package to the castle. A package that was apparently picked up on the road between Snow’s land and your castle, your majesties.”

“Thank you, Astra,” Queen Regina responded to the information, knowing that she would get a fuller update of that conversation later. “Any other news?”

A young man further down the table stood with his hat in his hands. He bowed clumsily and it wasn’t immediately apparent why he was there until an older man across from him offered a smile of encouragement and said, ‘just repeat what you told us’. “Your majesties,” he began, copying all who’d already spoken. “I was born on Queen Snow’s land, in a place called, Thistle Mist.”

“I know it,” Emma interjected with an element of childish excitement in her tone. “It’s not an hour’s ride from my mother’s castle.”

“Yes, Queen Emma. I remember your family’s visits there, and your mother’s generosity.” His eyes passed over the dark queen and he quickly looked away, fearful of what he might find in her gaze.

“How did you come to live on this side of the border?” Queen Regina enquired evenly.

Eased by the lack of fireballs, the young man continued, “My father crossed the border from your kingdom on your order, your majesty, when you wanted to test the barrier,” he told the ex-Evil Queen. “He took refuge in the first village he came to and eventually met my mother there. They moved further south, further from your kingdom, after they were married.”

Regina felt her wife’s curious gaze but didn’t turn to look. She dreaded seeing Emma’s reaction to what she guessed was coming. “Was your father a travelling merchant twenty-one years ago by any chance?”

The young man ducked his head. “Yes, your majesty.”

“What is your father’s name?”

A panicked look crossed the man’s eyes and he swallowed visibly. “Gabriel.”

“And your name?”

“C-Carlos.”

“Meaning ‘free-man’,” Regina replied, surprising most with her ready knowledge. “Very apt. Does your father still live, Carlos?”

Again, he swallowed and worried the hat in his hands – a gesture that the dark queen was very familiar with. “Y-yes, your majesty.”

Regina ‘hmm-ed’ to herself before seeming to remember something. “I distracted you from the point of your story, please continue.”

“I… Yes,” Carlos stuttered. “M-my mother passed away last winter. She was sick, but we had no means to pay for medicine and not enough food to keep her strong. Father had wanted to cross the border to ask for help from people he’d known, but mother said it was too dangerous.” He hesitated slightly, his gaze pausing on Queen Emma. “Since our princess’ marriage, people who are caught trying to leave Queen Snow’s kingdom are severely punished. Father and I only managed it because he knew how to avoid the roads. Many more are desperate to follow our example though.”

Regina nodded and thanked him. She chanced a look at her wife and found glassy eyes heavy with anger. In an impulsive gesture, she found Emma’s hand with her own and squeezed it gently. Turning back to the story-teller, she asked, “Carlos, is it your desire to get justice for your mother’s unnecessary death?”

What had been a nervous and unsure demeanour, suddenly gained strength from some inner source. “Yes, your majesty.”

“Please, show my captain to where you are staying,” the dark queen requested. “I will come and speak with you and your father when I am done here.”

Captain Briggs escorted the man from the long house, leaving the room in tense silence as they all absorbed the unthinkable; Snow White was letting her people die. If anyone had doubted the possibility of criminals and sinister elements in control of the White kingdom, they were fast losing that belief. As they waited for the meeting to resume however, they looked upon their queens and found reason to rejoice.

Queen Regina had yet to release her hold on Queen Emma’s hand, offering silent support for what had to be devastating news to the former White princess. Faith and confidence in the stability of their own monarchy rose a notch; the two queens would find a way to rid both lands of this evil force.

Only when Emma seemed to have gotten over the shock of Carlos’ story did Regina let go of her hand. Gathering her own wits, she addressed the room and began to give out orders, focussing on securing the roads in and out of her kingdom and reinforcing the strategic hideaways in the forest borders. Healers were to gather extra supplies for possible open conflict, food had to be preserved and properly stored in the event of a siege, and military training would be given to any person who wished to know how to defend themselves.

Just as everyone began to rise from their seats, Regina caught another look at her wife’s forlorn expression and held them all back. “Before you leave, I want you all to remember to pass on a message to any of our subjects; my wife and I will support any household which is willing and able to take in refugees from Queen Snow’s kingdom. To all of our soldiers, we wish you to do everything you can to help people trying to cross the border. From this moment, Snow’s people… my wife’s people… are _our_ people.”

If Regina had any concerns regarding her impulsive decision, she was gratified when there were no shouts of protest. If anything, there was a decided sense of relief and enthusiasm in the faces that left after those orders were given and the dark queen had to remind herself that hers and Snow’s kingdoms had once been one vast land, where no border existed to separate families and friends. It just showed that no matter how far she thought she’d come; she still had a way to go.

The redhead hovered as the rest of the delegates disappeared, drawing a confused stare from Queen Emma. Regina spotted the brief exchange and smiled at her spy.

“That will be all for today, Astra. I will call on you tomorrow afternoon, when we pass through on our way home,” she told the woman, who bowed her head and left the couple alone. “Emma,” she continued as she turned to her wife. “I am going to speak with Carlos and his father now. Will you join me or would you prefer to wait with the men?”

Emma tensed, but there was no judgement in the brunette’s tone, just genuine concern for how she must be feeling. “I will join you. I owe them that much.”

Regina stopped the blonde from immediately leaving and waited for eye contact before saying, “Their tragedy is not your fault, Emma. If anything, I am to blame for not listening to you sooner.”

The younger queen attempted a small smile. “The only people at fault here are the ones behind the sabotage on my mother’s leadership. If I’m not allowed to feel guilty for this, then you aren’t either.”

The brunette’s returning smile was pained. “I’m not so sure about that.”

As they entered a small hut and found Carlos sat by a prone figure in a bed, the tension in the room climbed noticeably. The sorceress moved towards the bed but stopped when the young man stood and, trembling, blocked her path. She levelled a calm stare at him and gestured to the stool he’d been sitting on.

“May I?”

Carlos appeared at a loss for what to do in the face of her politeness, until a weak voice came from behind him.

“It’s alright, son. Let her sit.”

Regina looked at the tiny stool and thanked her lucky stars that she wasn’t wearing a bulkier outfit before manoeuvring herself to sit. “We meet again,” she began as she looked down at his weary face.

An expression of exhausted defiance crossed his face. Her appearance confused him; she looked nothing like the outraged, mad woman he’d encountered so many years ago; her eyes appeared warmer, less feral, and somehow, she seemed both older and younger than the last time they’d met. The serious, hard tone of her voice put him on edge though. “Yes, your majesty. Have you come to kill me?”

Regina could feel Emma’s eyes on her again and she knew that she was going to have to explain a great many things to her wife before they arrived home. “Not today, I think. I believe that I have finally learned to direct my wrath at those who truly deserve it. You are the injured party here, not I.” She registered the surprise in his gaze and averted hers to assess his condition. Now that she was looking at him closely, she felt a deeper concern fill her veins. “Is this how your wife looked before she died?”

The abrupt and straightforward question caught Gabriel off guard and he took a sudden breath before beginning to cough. His hand reached out blindly for a cup of water before one appeared as if by magic in front of him. Without ceremony, he was helped to sit up enough to drink and slowly, he managed to regain his breath. “Yes. Isabela died of this sickness.”

The dark queen nodded and then turned abruptly to the blonde queen standing next to Carlos. “Emma, I want you to wait for me outside, please.”

“What? Why?” Emma asked in confusion and annoyance, forgetting for a moment her royal façade. Did Regina think that she couldn’t handle seeing someone so sick?

“I will explain later,” Regina insisted gently. “But I need you to trust me now and do as I say.” She met an irritated, green stare and didn’t waver until her wife reluctantly nodded and left the hut. Her eyes turned back to the invalid and to his surprise, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I have seen this before, or something like it at least. It swept my lands some eighteen years ago. There was a small outbreak too a year ago. My healers will know what to do, but I must insist that you and your son stay here until the sickness is past. I will have the village marshal provide ample food and water until you are able to provide for yourselves again.” Where her hand touched him, she focussed some of her energy on easing his discomfort and watched with a satisfied smile as his eyes rolled back in their sockets and his head lolled on the pillow.

Carlos darted towards the bed with renewed fire in his eyes. “What did you do? Father…!”

Regina stood abruptly and brought a hand up with a twisting motion to steal the panicked yell that she could sense bubbling inside of him. “He will heal better if he is able to sleep soundly. I have dulled some of his symptoms temporarily, that is all.” She waited until her words sank in before removing the silencing spell.

“We cannot leave?” Carlos blurted in a whisper.

“No,” she answered, her words accompanied by a stern glare at the younger man. “I will post a guard outside these premises to ensure that you do not leave and that no one enters other than the healer. It is for the village’s safety.”

Carlos still appeared startled but he gradually understood that the queen was going to try to help his father get better again and so he nodded. “I can work,” he said quickly, almost desperately. “When I was a boy, father taught me how to sculpt wood and sometimes stone; it distracted us from the hunger. I kept up the craft. What I make might sell.”

“I imagine it will keep you from climbing the walls also,” the queen empathised, thinking of the long, dull hours spent in Leopold’s castle. “I will see to it.”

She left the hut and gave instructions to all of the appropriate people to ensure that both father and son got the care they needed, all the while ignoring Emma’s barely controlled fidgeting by her side. It was testament to how curious the blonde was that she could forget her training. Later than intended, they mounted their horses and rode out to Queen Abigail’s castle. The sorceress waited until Emma was riding alongside her before sighing.

“With all of the effort I put into persecuting your mother, I paid very little attention to the well-being of the common people,” she began sombrely. “The kingdom was still whole and their loyalty lay mostly with Snow. Mother had told me to make them love me, but I really didn’t know how to begin to do that. She had never really set a good example and after years of being married to the king and allowing my bitterness to grow into hatred, when they turned on me, I turned on them.” Regina’s gaze met Emma’s, expecting to find criticism behind the blonde’s usual warmth, but there was none. Other than the torments she had hinted at on their wedding night, she had never openly spoken about her time as Leopold’s wife. She wasn’t quite sure what made her so forthcoming now, except that Emma needed the truth of her muddied and desperate past to understand the metamorphosis of her kingdom.

Sensing the intimacy of the conversation, Captain Briggs gestured for his squad to disperse slightly and take up their watch from a distance. Having vetted all of his elite team himself, with approval from Queen Regina, he trusted their discretion and professionalism, but he guessed that much of what his queens were discussing was personal – idle gossip did not need much of a spark to set it aflame, and no one was infallible. With the royals distracted, it was also the guard’s duty to be extra vigilant.

Out in the open, with Queen Abigail’s castle on the horizon, daylight continued to light their way, but the sun made their shadows longer with each passing minute and it wouldn’t be long before the despots of the night tried their luck. Though thieves rarely had the courage to tangle with the ex-Evil Queen, some were particularly stupid and/or daring. Complacency was not something they could afford.

Regina was a proficient enough rider that she barely needed to concentrate to keep her steed from veering off the path or slowing from their brisk walk. Sired by Ro, her new mare, Juno was every bit the thoroughbred the queen needed. Bracken happily kept pace with the chestnut beauty while their riders conversed.

“…The deal I made with Snow for your hand forced my life into a new direction. I realised that I couldn’t just sit around for eighteen years, so managing the kingdom became my focus.” She briefly recounted the chance meeting she’d had with the bandits and the role she’d playing in rescuing Astra and her mother. She explained how the politics and economics of ruling a kingdom had satisfied her need for control and order, rebuffing any attempt on Emma’s behalf to paint her actions in an altruistic light.

“You could have turned the other way, Regina,” Emma argued the point gently. “There was nothing stopping you from taking advantage of your own people, the same way someone is taking advantage of my mother’s. Deny it all you like, but you enjoy seeing your people prosper rather than suffer. I think, despite your chequered history and your difficult experiences with love, you managed to find a way into the people’s hearts in your own unique way. These are not the actions of a tyrant.”

“It does not erase the pain I inflicted upon them. Many of these people have lost _their_ loved ones because of me. No matter how many times your mother tries to say ‘sorry’, her regret can never bring Daniel back from the dead. If that is true for Snow, it is true also for me,” Regina replied, her words hinting at a deep, lingering guilt that she so rarely acknowledged. “That man back there – Gabriel – he fled my kingdom because I failed to kill him. Had he not escaped; he would be dead and I would not have even remembered his face.”

“But he lived and whether it’s fate or coincidence, he survived and can give us information that we sorely need. Perhaps not for a want of trying, but you didn’t kill him.” Emma reminded the brunette. “Not everyone deserves to be forgiven, but forgiveness is a choice. Insanely difficult as it may be, it is still a choice. Perhaps, until you can find it within you to forgive my mother, you will not allow yourself to be forgiven.”

Regina’s eyebrow rose at the profound wisdom in those words. As much as her wife preferred duties which required her physical prowess, she was quite able to handle the academic side of their responsibilities too, but such insights were a reflection of character more than knowledge and intelligence, and for some reason, this pleased the dark sorceress more. That didn’t mean she was prepared to concede the point. “Be that as it may, it bears little significance to our current conversation.”

“I could argue that, but I know how stubborn you are,” Emma replied, her tone light as she sent the brunette a half smile.

The sorceress rolled her eyes. “Do you want to know the rest or not?”

“Sorry,” the younger queen replied, her smile widening at the characteristic irritation on her wife’s face. “Continue.”

Regina smothered a smile of her own as she thought back to the early years of ruling without the Evil Queen. So much of what she’d done at that time was driven by instinct and the need to distract her thoughts from sorrow and their murderous path. No matter how much Emma tried to put a different spin on her motivations, deep down she knew that they were mostly self-interested. “When I first began to make changes, it became clear early on that the citizens were in poor health. Infrastructure left by previous monarchs was in disrepair, trades were sparse and ill-suited and as a result, there was little money. The people were hungry and weak.” She took a moment to assess the time they had remaining before reaching their destination and decided that they could afford a quicker pace. She urged Juno into a slightly faster walk and unconsciously checked their surroundings before turning back to Emma. “It didn’t take long for things to pick up – I was driven, and desperate to occupy my waking hours with activity. Before the people were back up to full strength though, sickness swept the villages, killing the weak. No one was spared from its grasp. Had I taken better care of my people, there would not have been so many fatalities.” At the time she had cared less for the loss of life and more for the loss of labourers, but as the years had flown by and she came to know many of the commoners personally, their losses weighed heavier on her mind.

Emma saw the far away gaze in her wife’s eyes, which spoke once more of buried emotions, and she tried again to raise another point of view. “Had you not made an effort to improve their lot, there would have been more fatalities.”

“ _I’m_ stubborn?” Regina huffed with fond exasperation.

“Just trying to show you that there is always more than one side to these things,” Emma replied in defence. “Is that why you wanted me to leave the hut, so I didn’t catch anything?”

“Yes,” the sorceress nodded. “You are in good health, but it is best never to tempt fate.” The second she had suspected that Gabriel’s illness could be related to the outbreak she’d witnessed, she had feared for her wife’s safety.

“What about you?” Emma frowned, unknowingly mirroring her wife’s concerns.

Regina straightened and glanced at the blonde, wearing an expression which suggested that her years of experience gave her seniority. “It is my responsibility and since those who have suffered the sickness once are less likely to suffer it a second time, I am at less risk than you.”

The blonde’s mouth opened to respond with her usual argument, that they were equally responsible, but the brunette’s latter words gave her pause. “You were sick?”

“Yes, and a very irascible patient I was, as you can no doubt imagine.” The self-depreciating joke brought a real, heart-felt chuckle from the blonde and Regina felt her mood jump in response. Much as she relished the rush that came with their more heated disagreements sometimes, hearing Emma’s laugh out-trumped it every time.

The road dipped into a curve around the far bank of a river and the riders knew that their journey for the day would soon be at an end. Not so distant now, the castle rose up from the land, its gold-topped turrets catching the fading sunlight and beckoning its guests closer. The company rode in comfortable silence for a few minutes, each queen lost to her own thoughts, processing everything they’d learned since leaving their home.

“How will we know if it’s the same sickness?” Emma asked at last. “Snow’s people are in worse condition than yours were, and with no hope of escape…”

Regina glanced at her wife with a raised eyebrow, wondering briefly if the young queen had meant to use her mother’s name instead of the more familiar moniker between parent and child. “Time will tell. I’m not sure how much difference it will make though, to be honest,” she added regretfully. “Any illness is going to have a profound effect on a starving population.”

Emma lowered her head, acknowledging the truth of that statement. If they were going to save those people, they needed to act fast.


	12. War and Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally, I don't like to give too much away. However, in response to a review: since I began writing this during lockdown, I suppose the idea of a sickness just came naturally, but I also began writing this to get away from reality for a while, so I didn't make it a big focus. Feel free to assume that this illness is something that a normally robust population would recover from. Regina's just being extra cautious.
> 
> Warning for this chapter is in the title.

After a somewhat subdued birthday dinner and a restless night’s sleep, Emma spoke little on their return home. The meetings with various village representatives had not given them as much information as she had hoped and something in her gut told her that this was the calm before the storm. She felt wholly unprepared to face whatever lay beyond the border between their land and Snow’s, and with increasing regularity, she wished that her wife was able to accompany her when she next attempted to burst her mother’s blinkered bubble.

On the plus side, Regina’s foresight and logistical competence gave her some peace of mind. Their own people were prepared to face any opposition if Snow’s kingdom fell and their loyalty to their queen went far beyond the aesthetic – they had confidence in their monarch that had been earned over a generation. They knew that Regina would fight with them and for them, not hide behind them. Emma hoped they knew that she would do no less.

By the time they reached Wood End, Emma was ready for the privacy of her chambers and an hour-long nap, but they had one stop left to make, and now that she knew more about the mysterious redhead’s history with her wife, she was curious to see them together. In the three years they’d been married, despite many visits to their closest village, she had never been introduced to any individual besides the elected official who handled instructions to and from the crown.

Astra was wearing a modest work-dress and greeted them out by a small stable when they arrived. There was a grooming brush in her hand and an ageing mule by her side, but she abandoned both at the sound of many hoofbeats and wiped her hands vigorously on her apron before ushering the two queens inside her home.

Gone was the bed against one wall and the tiny table in the corner. A door had been built into one wall, with a bedroom beyond and a sturdy looking dining table took up the remaining space in the middle of the room. Shelves of herbs and unction lined a once-bare wall and the smell of something wholesome drifted from a bubbling pot on the fire. While still a very modest dwelling, Regina couldn’t help but feel proud of the two women for the successes they’d achieved over the years.

“Mother!” Astra called as she untied her apron and hung it up. “We have visitors!”

A clattering sound came from the direction of the extra room, followed by shuffling, before the door opened and revealed an old woman wearing her own work clothes and a smile. “Your majesty,” she greeted and grasped the dark queen’s arm in an acquainted gesture that most wouldn’t dare to try. Her sharp gaze didn’t remain long on the brunette though, jumping over the queen’s shoulder to land on Emma. “Finally ran out of excuses to keep her away, did you?” she all but smirked.

Regina rolled her eyes, hard. Twenty years of working with Frieda and Astra had created a camaraderie between the three that eventually evolved into an unspoken friendship. Astra retained her deference to the royal, but Frieda had decided to take full advantage of her advancing years and treated the ex-Evil Queen almost as another daughter. To Regina, who had longed for a real mother figure for as long as she could remember, the change was greeted with faux irritation and secret admiration.

“We do have a kingdom to run, old woman,” the dark queen replied playfully. “Yes, this is my wife, Queen Emma.” Turning to the blonde, she held out a hand and ushered Emma closer. “Emma, these are Frieda and her daughter, Astra. I have mentioned them,” she added, as if there was no significance to that statement.

Emma eyed Regina knowingly, almost feeling the discomfort coming off her. Instinctively, she reached out a hand of her own, placing it just above the dark queen’s elbow as she turned to face the two women. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. My wife speaks highly of you.”

Frieda chuckled and reached to grasp the blonde’s hand too. Looking deep into green eyes, she whispered, “Your wife speaks very little of you except to blush and change the subject.”

“Mother!” Astra cried with embarrassment and hastened their guests to the table, lest the dark queen should decide to revisit old habits. “I’m sure their majesties are eager to get home after their long journey, we shouldn’t keep them with idle talk.”

Emma bit her lip to stop from laughing out loud, but squeezed her wife’s elbow in comfort to show that she wasn’t offended in any way. “What is it that you do for our kingdom, Astra?” she enquired once they were all sat around the table. “Your role must be significant to be needed at yesterday’s gathering.”

“Astra is a spy,” Regina spoke bluntly, interrupting any reply while still shaking off the discomfort of feeling exposed. “Do you have any further information on the package of which you spoke?”

The redhead glanced between the two queens, saw the indignation behind hard green, and ploughed on before anything ugly could break out; she knew her queen’s temper when she was riled and had no desire to see it that afternoon. “Only that I suspect it might have been a person.”

Emma momentarily forgot her annoyance as she processed those words. “What makes you believe that?”

“The men charged with delivering the package said they had to ‘knock it out’ a couple of times. I can’t imagine why they would transport an animal in such a way,” she shrugged, knowing that she was right.

“Someone from my homeland?” Emma concluded in horror. Her mind swam with images of friends and acquaintances who might possibly be important enough to warrant a kidnapping. All grievances forgotten now, she turned to her wife with pleading eyes. “We need to know who they were delivering to king George.”

“Do not assume that George was the recipient,” Regina replied while she mulled it over. She was too deep in her own thoughts to think to be tactful or considerate of anyone else’s feelings and missed the tell-tale signs of an argument brewing.

“Who else would be if this ‘package’ was being taken there?” the blonde asked heatedly. Deciding that she didn’t have the energy right then to deal with the brunette’s impenetrable façade, Emma stood abruptly and picked up the cloak she’d shed. “My apologies,” she muttered to the two villagers before fleeing the house.

“Emma?” Regina called firmly after the blonde, but other than a cold glance, she got no response. Sighing heavily, she turned back to the two women. “Astra, on your next trip to market, in addition to the usual, I want you to glean anything you can about this captive.”

“Understood,” the redhead replied before standing to move to the fire where the pot continued to bubble. She sensed the queen’s need to speak to her mother alone, and though the space was small, she knew that simply pretending not to hear was enough for the sake of politeness.

“You overstepped,” Regina accused the old woman the moment they were alone at the table. “I could have you flogged for that,” she added threateningly. She still couldn’t believe that Frieda had said something so blatantly private in front of Emma. Her brain had to work hard not to see the indiscretion as a betrayal of her trust. What would her wife think? Would she be horrified? _If the looks she’s been sending you recently are evidence enough, you know she wouldn’t._ Resolutely ignoring her inner voice, she glared while waiting for an answer.

Frieda winced internally, but on the outside she appeared unaffected. “I’m an old woman, your majesty. I know love when I see it and you’ve had far too little of it in your life to waste it so senselessly.” Mindless of the fire in dark eyes, she reached out and placed a hand on top of the dark queen’s. She had seen enough in the blonde queen’s eyes and mannerisms to know that the gossip mongers were right; there was something very special between the couple, something that had caught the whole kingdom unawares, and she had every intention of nurturing it. “It boggles my mind that two married people, who are very much smitten with each other, can be so very chaste.”

The truth there and the compassion facing her effectively doused the queen’s ire. _If she only knew precisely how chaste your wife is,_ that voice whispered again. She dropped all pretence at being regal and impassable and sagged in her chair. “We’ve become far too personable; you’ve lost all your deference.”

Frieda chuckled victoriously. “You prefer me this way. Who else do you have to tell you what anyone with two functioning eyes can see, hmm?” At the creeping uncertainty in warm brown eyes, that her queen so rarely allowed anyone to see, the old woman thought that more evidence might need to be shared. “When the announcement went out of your impending wedding to Princess Emma, the entire kingdom expected war to break out, if not from Snow White, then from the daughter you stole into your den.”

“The whole kingdom?” Regina frowned.

“Some went as far as to speculate that you would return to your former terrifying glory once the marriage was official, but they were very few and easily quashed. There was wide spread concern though, your majesty.” Frieda insisted. She knew that the sorceress routinely ignored gossip about her romantic interests, and there had been much of it over the years. “Imagine our surprise when the princess rode at your side like she was meant to be there all along.”

“Do my people have nothing better to do with their time? Perhaps they are not working hard enough,” Regina grumbled. It was an idle threat; she knew that her people worked hard and that gossip was the medium by which they entertained themselves, but it was still galling sometimes to find herself at the centre of it all.

“What else do people love to speculate on than the crown? Many are surprised and concerned by the fact that you and Queen Emma have yet to produce an heir,” the old woman added cautiously.

That stung. “They should mind their own business.”

Lowering her head slightly, the old woman pushed. “Beg your pardon, your majesty, but the future of the monarchy _is_ the people’s business.”

There was some truth to that, the queen realised. Still, it wasn’t as if she needed an heir. “I am immortal, they know this.”

“Still?” Frieda asked, surprised that the curse had not yet been lifted. She had felt sure that Queen Emma was the one to break it.

Regina sighed. She held up a hand, waved the other hand over it to cut a sliver of flesh on the palm and watched it bleed for a few seconds before the wound began to heal over. “Satisfied?”

“But…?”

Dark eyes rolled in their sockets. What else were the people gossiping about? “More speculation?”

“Well… true love’s kiss is said to cure any curse,” Frieda reminded the monarch unnecessarily. An increasingly irritated expression shot her way, reminding her of how little the ex-Evil Queen liked the topic. “I would assume that at the altar, or on your wedding night at least…” she flushed, thinking that she might finally have hit a topic that was out of bounds even to her.

Annoyance flickered fleetingly into trepidation as Regina thought about the consequences of anyone guessing the shaky legal state of her marriage. “You assume that I kissed her that night… or any other night.” A forced smirk rose to her mouth. “On the lips at least,” she added, not prepared to risk sharing the truth.

Frieda recovered from her brief hesitation and frowned. From somewhere deep inside, anger rose; it was about damn time the queen learned to love again. “I suggest you get to it then!” she cried, surprising the queen and Astra, who continued to potter about in the kitchen area. “I…” she stammered immediately after her outburst. “I’m sorry, your majesty,” she stuttered worriedly. A dark cloud had fallen over the queen’s face, but behind the fury, there was hurt and this more than anything made her regret her words.

A stony silence filled the room for several tense seconds as the queen calmed her thoughts and the two women waited on her response. “ _That_ was definitely out of line. I appreciate that we have grown close over the years, but I am still your queen. You would do well to remember it. While I might assume that your intentions are for my welfare, you will not speak to me again on this subject. Am I clear?”

Properly chastised, the old woman agreed. She held her tongue until the sorceress and her ominous cloud were gone. Alone with her daughter again, she released a lungful of air and sank back into her chair.

“Mother, what has gotten into you?” Astra exclaimed from the kitchenette.

“I have no idea,” Frieda muttered. “I really do want the best for her,” she added mournfully.

“I know, mother,” the redhead sighed. “I do too.”

* * * * *

Regina ignored Emma’s huffy silence as they made the last leg of their journey home. Her head was too full of jumbled thoughts and they were both tired. She didn’t want it to be in the middle of the forest when they eventually broke out into an argument. She was still annoyed with Frieda for her impertinent observations. No matter how true they might be, she was in no mood to give them credence. Her kingdom would soon be under threat if they didn’t do something to stop Snow’s downfall and she would allow nothing else to take precedence.

After years of practise, it was almost effortless to convince herself of this.

She had half expected Emma to take her silent treatment to her room and avoid her entirely, but heavy footsteps followed her to her desk and, once the door was closed on their work space, the blonde wasted no time in sharing her stewed thoughts.

“You know, just when I think that you and I have managed to find a way to work together with understanding, you become this wall of ice again. Why do you have to shoot down everything I say when you’re in one of these moods?” the blonde fumed from her ridged stance behind her own desk. When brown eyes looked up at her with blank emotion, she resisted the urge to reach across the divide and shake the brunette.

“My points were valid; it is not my fault if you are still overly sensitive to being challenged. After three years, I would have thought you’d be used to not getting your way all the time,” Regina added in a tone that she immediately regretted. Her impassable expression hid it well though.

“Really?” Emma snarled. “We’re back to that?” She was fed up of being treated like a spoilt princess. “Maybe if you learned how to feel without running away, you wouldn’t have to take your bitterness out on other people!”

A flash of pain peeked through the dark queen’s mask, but Emma was too angry to feel sorry for her wife this time. Regina stood slowly from her seat and moved to the window, leaving tension in her place. Rather than hide away in her room until they’d both calmed down a bit, Emma was rather more concerned with getting back to work and sank into her own chair with growl. An awkward silence stretched on longer than she could stand, until her anger broke and a despondent sigh fell from her lips. Both hands reached to push through her hair and she levelled a hard stare across the room.

“Let’s just forget about it. We need to go through what I’ll be looking to do on my next trip.”

Regina winced, both at the sound of defeat in the blonde’s voice and the thought of Emma going away again. _Why are you doing this to her?_ Conflict ran like treacle through her veins, thick and suffocating. She kept falling back into the same trap – pushing Emma away by comparing her to Snow. If anything, from what she’d gleaned from her wife’s tales of childhood, Snow had continued to be the brat she’d always been and Emma had compensated for her mother’s spoilt behaviour by occasionally being more the parent. The last thing Emma deserved was to be treated as an extension of her mother, but Regina kept responding to that knee-jerk need to push her feelings away, so she picked the one thing that she knew would put a wedge between them.

It had to stop. Deep down inside, she knew that she was being just as self-destructive as she was in destroying Emma’s chances at love. _You stole her freedom with your deal to marry Snow’s daughter and now, when there’s real potential for happiness and love, you try to throw it away!_ She turned back to face her wife, fully intending to utter what might have been her first heart-felt ‘I’m sorry’ in decades, when a loud knock came at the door and Emma moved to answer it.

A panting servant stood at the door, his hand holding out a sealed envelope, which Queen Emma took with a strained ‘thank you’. “It’s my mother’s seal,” she muttered to herself as she broke the wax and wandered back across the room to read. She only needed to read the first two lines to lose all feeling in her legs and stumble back into her chair.

Regina was at her wife’s side in the blink of an eye, all of their conflict temporarily forgotten. “Emma?”

“She… she’s declaring war on us,” the blonde stuttered in disbelief. Her eyes travelled further down the page. When she reached the second half, adrenaline shot through her veins and she jumped back up from her seat.

“Snow…? _Snow White_ is declaring war?” Regina reached to pick up the letter that had slipped from the blonde’s hand, while Emma started pacing the room, dragging her fingers through her hair. The brunette skipped the titles and began reading aloud.

“ _I, Snow White… blah blah blah… In response to the Evil Queen’s latest insult to our good name…_ What insult?... _do henceforth declare war on our long-time enemy… no quarter to be given until the Evil Queen sees fit to return to us our king, Charming…”_

“What?” Regina froze and slowly met her wife’s enraged gaze.

“Isn’t it obvious? George has my father and he’s pinning the kidnap on us… on _you_!” Emma cried, her voice a mixture of anger and despair. “Snow thinks you’re the one who has my dad, so she’s coming after you… after _us_!”

In the back of the sorceress’ mind, a tiny thrill of joy sparked at the self-correction that Emma used to unite them as a team and not as single entities against the oncoming conflict. Something just didn’t feel right about the whole thing to Regina though. While George _could_ be involved – and he was certainly devious enough – she just couldn’t picture him being so cunning as to make up the entire plan himself.

“Emma, I don’t think…”

“I can’t do nothing, Regina!” the blonde cried in desperation. Panic and rage warred for dominance behind green eyes as a fist came down hard against a desk. “At this point, I don’t care if George is involved or not, his castle is being used as a prison to encourage Snow to declare war. I cannot let it stand!”

“You need to use your head…!” the sorceress tried again to interrupt.

“To hell with logic!” Emma yelled. She was still sore about what had happened in the village and the fact that her wife insisted on showcasing her superiority without consideration for Emma’s position and self-esteem. She was also frustrated with the gap that kept widening when she thought that they were closing in on something wonderful. “Yours might be dead, but I’m going to use my heart for once!”

“Emma?... Emma…!” the dark queen yelled after her wife, every part of her wanting to give chase but knowing that is would be fruitless. The comment about her dead heart stung more than she wanted to admit and she sank into her chair as a foreign stinging pricked at the backs of her eyes. _No, you are not going to cry!_ her inner voice insisted.

The promise of getting back to the congenial partnership of their early years of marriage was fading fast. Every time she thought that she and Emma had reached a place of understanding, the past rose up to bite her. Was this relationship doomed from the start? Would the shadows of Snow White and the Evil Queen forever darken their doorway? With these doubts playing on her mind, Regina went to find comfort with the one person who she knew would never reject her.

Henry was in bed this time when Regina entered her father’s room. It seemed he spent more and more time there, lacking the strength to get out of bed even when he was awake and wanted to look at something other than the ceiling. As always, she was left alone to converse with the ailing man, though she couldn’t help but notice the heightened tension in the eyes of the servant who hurried to the door in an effort to escape the queen’s presence. She supposed he had reason to be cautious; she wasn’t known for her healthy handling of pain and loss.

“Hi, Daddy,” she greeted her father with her usual soft warmth. It was a side of her that she kept hidden from all others, reserved only for the man who, no matter his failings, had stood by her through every step of her painful journey.

“Mi Reinita,” he murmured back. The more time that passed, the more often he reverted to the terms of endearment he’d used with her as a child. His ‘little queen’ – something she had refused to hear from him the moment her mother had forced her to marry the king. Hearing it now though was like a balm on an old, festering wound.

The sorceress gazed down on her father’s sallow features and felt another stab of pain in her gut. She imagined how she would feel if Sir Henry was the one who had been smuggled, under the cover of darkness, into King George’s dungeon. She remembered the lengths she’d gone to in order to save her father from her mother’s clutches in Wonderland and knew that nothing short of death would keep her at home when someone she loved was in danger. Why did she keep expecting Emma to behave differently with her parents? She sighed and blood-shot eyes fell on her to try to find cause for her melancholy.

“What is on your mind, Regina?” he asked gently and reached out with a thin, clumsy arm to find her hand with his own.

“Daddy, I’ve made such a mess,” she began mournfully. She didn’t know which pain was worse anymore; the idea of losing her father or losing her wife. Knowing that at least one of those situations was of her own making and entirely preventable, she hated herself all over again. Slowly, she started to summarise everything that had come to light over the last few weeks and confessed in more detail the way she’d been treating Emma since the troubles began a year ago.

“Stop hiding, mija. Show her who you really are,” the old man almost begged. These might well be his last few hours left in this world – he could feel it, and he wanted nothing more than to pass away knowing that his little girl was going to be happy. “It’s time to let go of the past, Regina.”

The queen nodded and took the advice to heart for once. She was fed up of letting her fear control the way she responded to her wife’s attempts to get closer. She was fed up of seeing hurt behind those green eyes and hating herself for pushing the blonde away. She was fed up of still feeling so alone most of the time.

She stayed with her father until he eventually gave up trying to keep his eyes open and fell into a fitful sleep. She couldn’t bear to sit with him and listen to his ragged breathing, the catch in his lungs reminding her with every pull of air that the next might be his last. Instead, she did what she was good at, she buried herself in work.

Part of her hadn’t wanted to believe that Emma would actually leave the castle grounds on a rash quest to rescue a prisoner that might or might not be her father, but as the hour became late and there was no sign of the blonde returning, Regina ventured down to the stables to find Bracken in her stall but several other horses and all of Emma’s personal guard gone. The lack of thought irritated her to no end, mostly because worry once again gripped her mind, but she couldn’t help feeling a little admiration for the decisiveness of her wife’s actions. As Abigail had already observed, her wife was truly noble.

“Idiot,” she muttered to herself as she made her way back inside.

It was unlikely that the entire party would manage to reach their destination before morning, which meant that they would have to stop off in one of the villages overnight. Knowing Emma, she though that the blonde would be able to see past her anger and return home before she did something to undo their hard work. Somehow, despite her ingrained pessimism, she had faith in Emma to make the right decision.

It took a lot of effort to drag herself to bed that night. She’d cancelled the usual spread of food for supper and ordered anything that might be spoiled to be distributed amongst the night-watch, taking only the smallest of snacks for herself. After waking several times to the imaginary sound of hooves, Regina was dragged from a light slumber by the sound of knuckles knocking hesitantly at her door. Thinking that it might be Emma, she jumped out of bed, waved a hand over her body to dress in something more enticing and paused to take a breath before opening the door.

“Y-y-our majesty,” a nervous maid stammered from the other side, filling the queen first with disappointment and then trepidation. “I’m so sorry…”

Regina felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. It took a moment for her to recognise the woman’s face and put it together with the clinical pinafore she wore over her dress. “No…” she whispered and felt her knees weaken.

“There’s nothing more we can do for him…” The maid trailed off at the look of utter devastation on the queen’s face. She dug deep to find the courage to add the words that no one had wanted to say to the ex-Evil Queen. “It’s time.”

Regina had no recollection of dressing, leaving her room or making her way along the corridor and up a flight of stairs to her father’s room. Time held no meaning in the moments that passed while she sat on the edge of Henry’s bed and held his hand through his last few breaths. When he finally stilled and she collapsed onto his chest in a torrent of tears, she had no idea how long she lay there before arms pulled her up and she sank into them like the world was coming to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to RegalLemon905 for making me aware of the issue with the story not showing up on the AO3 thread as having new chapters. Since I have uploaded the entire story already as drafts, I didn't realise that I need to change the publication date. Hope this sorts it!


	13. Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Queen

Emma knew with every beat of her horse’s hooves and every passing tree that she was making a horrible mistake. Even the sound of the guards following for her safety did nothing to ease her mind. Bracken had been too tired for her to drag the mare out a second time, so she’d had to settle for one of the standard horses and it felt wrong under her. It was well trained and confident, but it didn’t anticipate her like her own steed and that alone was enough to turn her mild sense of unease into a bubbling cauldron doubt.

Her personal guard were tired too. She was being selfish, impulsive and reckless. Having travelled thus far at a brisk trot, she pulled back on the reins until the stallion slowed to a casual walk and her head guard rode up alongside her.

“Your majesty?” he asked, sensing her conflict.

“Aren’t you going tell me that this is an ill-advised endeavour?” Queen Emma asked in her most self-depreciating tone. It wasn’t the first time that she had given him the run around after a blow-out with her wife, but it was the first time she’d dragged him into the forest on a day long journey even as the sun disappeared behind the canopy of trees, and after they’d just returned from a tour of the kingdom.

“I believe you have appointed-advisors for that, your majesty,” the lieutenant answered as he swallowed a smile. “My job is to follow your orders and give everything to keep you safe from whatever the world might try to throw at you.”

She chuckled softly and levelled a raised eyebrow in his direction. “But who keeps you safe from me?”

Genuinely intrigued by the question, Lieutenant Fowler considered his answer for a moment. “I suppose that would be up to your judgement, your majesty.”

Emma huffed, mostly to herself, but she couldn’t deny his assessment. Yes, soldiers lived and died by the will of their superiors. It was the superior’s responsibility not to take that loyalty for granted and lead their men into unnecessary danger. “In that case, I’m not sure that my judgement is up to scratch today.”

The lieutenant seemed disinclined to openly agree that the queen’s decision to ride through the night without preparation was stupid. His response was calculated. “It is not my place to tell you when would be the best time to rescue your father. I understand that the matter is of some urgency.”

The queen heard the ‘but’ in his words and pulled her horse to a stop. “I hate the idea of him being a prisoner anywhere,” she spoke with pain and anger sharp in her voice. “But we can’t be there before dark and I have no plan of action for when we do get there.”

Lieutenant Fowler recognised the struggle behind his queen’s troubled gaze and cleared his throat quietly. “It has been a long day, your majesty. Perhaps first thing tomorrow?”

Emma shook her head. “Thank you, but no,” she answered firmly. “This needs careful planning, not another hot-headed leap into the fray.” She turned her horse, ignoring the gnawing in her stomach, and made for home again.

It was testament to how little she’d been thinking that she hadn’t appreciated how far through the forest they’d already ridden. In her haste, she’d planned to pick up supplies at villages on the way, but it only occurred to her now that she would be pulling people out of their beds, demanding food from them and ruining whatever goodwill she’d earned to date. Not that her image was more important to her than her father’s safety, but she considered how much trust they put in her and Regina. With her mother’s declaration of war, the people needed that confidence now more than ever.

It was dark by the time they reached the turn off for Wood End and they still had half an hour’s travel ahead of them. They picked up the pace a bit, almost at a canter down the well-maintained highway, and soon were making good time.

Now that the queen’s thoughts were clearer, she began to realise how vulnerable she’d made herself and felt hairs rise on the back of her neck. What if those people who had kidnapped King David were on the lookout for her too? It wouldn’t be a stretch for anyone who knew her to assume that she might be stupidly impulsive when she found out about her father’s fate. What if they were lying in wait for her at this very moment? Where would that leave Regina?

 _Stupid, Emma!_ she chastised herself as the sound of snapping twigs and distant voices suddenly reached them from somewhere deep in the trees. Within seconds, what might have been a small group of noisy wanderers, soon sounded like an army of blood-thirsty animals. The guards were on high alert in an instant, all closing in formation around their queen while the lieutenant urged her not to stop.

It was hard to tell from which direction the approaching hoard were closing on them. The trees picked up every sound and threw them around until they were a distorted mess, but after a while, it seemed as if the growing cacophony was fading again and Emma allowed herself to feel a little less panicked. Their horses were tiring but they were passing the last half-mile stone so it seemed certain that they would make it to the castle before their pursuers caught up to them.

 _Who are they?_ the queen began to wonder as their mad dash drew close to an end. The thought had barely registered in her mind when a shadow threw itself into the road in front of them and forced the galloping group to a stop. Emma strained to see through the bodies of the guards in front of her and the darkness enveloping their surroundings, but by a sliver of moonlight, she could just make out the shape of a wolf, and one with a bundle strapped to its back no less.

An archer either side of the road aimed an arrow at the beast and the queen felt adrenaline flood her system again. “Don’t shoot!” she yelled over the frantic beating of her heart. The men obeyed, but questioning eyes narrowed on all sides around her and no one moved to lower their weapon. “She’s a friend,” she told them sharply and before they could question her sanity, she lifted her voice to address the wolf. “Red, stay on the road to the castle, we’ll follow! Don’t stop for us!”

To the soldiers’ surprise, the wolf obeyed. They weren’t out of the woods yet though, neither literally nor figuratively, and Lieutenant Fowler wasted no time in questioning the bizarre events as he ordered their formation back into action.

The werewolf was as fast as any horse and reached the gates of the castle just ahead of the royal and her entourage. She waited, panting hard, her golden eyes fixed on the treeline as the blonde queen made directly for her and dismounted in a rush beside her. Red lifted her head, sniffed Emma’s coat for quick confirmation and then began pushing the queen into the courtyard and to safety.

With the gates closed firmly behind them, Emma thanked her guard and ordered them to spread word of what they’d encountered before they were off duty for the next shift. Lieutenant Fowler seemed ready to challenge her decision for a moment, but one look at the haggard faces changed his mind. Instead, he simply asked for them to report for a quick briefing before they retired for the evening.

“Lieutenant,” Queen Emma addressed the man before he could run off himself. “Thank you for your support tonight. I will not forget your dedication to duty – even when it comes to fulfilling those that you are not paid for. I apologise for dragging you out.”

“I would have followed you all the way to King George’s castle and stormed the dungeons for you, your majesty. I still will. Though, I appreciate your wisdom in realising that the time is, as yet, not quite right.”

She smiled wanly. “Thank you,” she repeated and waved him away. Turning back to the wolf, she cocked her head to one side. “Red, what are you doing here?” Seeing something like exasperation behind those golden orbs, she sighed and turned towards the steps leading to the castle. “Come on. Let’s find somewhere private so you can put your cloak on.”

Emma was fully prepared to run into her wife and have to explain not only her animal companion, but why for a seemingly pointless task she’d run off and then returned. Regina was nowhere to be seen however and the odd pair managed to make their way to one of the guest rooms with only a short detour for the blonde queen to order some food.

Red shrugged off her load with a practised move and nosed around in the contents of the bag for a moment before nudging it towards the queen and allowing human hands to make light work of removing her signature piece.

“Emma! What were you doing out riding in the dark!?” the tall brunette demanded to know once she’d shifted back into her human form. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is out there at the moment? Didn’t Snow send you a letter today?”

Taken aback, the blonde flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, she did. Which is why I was going to find my father.”

“So, he’s not here? The Evil Queen didn’t abduct him?” Red questioned curiously.

“What? Regina? No! Red, what has been happening back home?” Emma cringed inwardly as she realised that it was no longer her home and that she was quite happy where she was, but it had been the place where she’d grown to know her mother’s best friend and found a kindred spirit in the wolf.

“It’s madness, Em,” Red admitted before collapsing into a chair. “Ever since you moved here, things have been going downhill. Snow and David had everything in hand at first, taking charge of business like I’ve never seen them before, but then last year, they had a visiting dignitary stay for a week and after that, there was just no talking sense to them. Your dad sometimes has moments where he seems almost normal, but then he becomes your mother’s lap dog again and there’s no getting through to him.”

“She was right,” the blonde muttered to herself and fell into her own chair. Seeing a questioning look on her friend’s face, she elaborated, “Regina thinks that there must be someone manipulating Snow and running the kingdom into the ground to make it easier to take the throne from my family.”

“And, you’re sure that it’s not the Evil Queen who’s behind it all?” Red asked suspiciously.

Emma frowned at both the title and the persistent finger pointing. “Regina hasn’t been the Evil Queen for a long time, Red. Even my mother realised that after I got married. We might not always agree on everything, but she’s treated me with nothing but compassion and respect. She’s my friend.”

The werewolf’s expression flicked from surprise to confusion. “That’s not what Snow’s been telling everyone lately.”

“Since this dignitary’s visit?” Emma suspected.

The brunette nodded in acceptance of the possibility. “Now that you mention it…”

“What has she been saying, exactly?”

Emma sat and listened while the wolf recounted all of the insidious accusations the White queen had used to paint Queen Regina’s image over the last year. She explained how Snow would cry over letters supposedly sent by her daughter to complain over the sorceress’ treatment of her since their marriage. She told of outright lies from the royals when it came to acknowledging the state of the economy. And confessed to being part of an underground rebellion that was desperate to overthrow the monarchy.

“Jiminy is there with Geppetto and Pinocchio; all the dwarves eventually deserted and made their way to us, and of course, Granny is with me,” Red informed the blonde queen.

“What about Blu and the fairies? Haven’t they tried to help?”

The wolf frowned. “They mostly disappeared after your wedding. No one knows how to get hold of them, but I don’t think it would matter anyway; Snow had a huge argument with Blu after you moved here and told her not to come back.”

They broke for food, eating in thoughtful silence for a time before Red found her voice again and moved on to explaining how miserable everyone had become, and not just those starving in the villages. Servants in the castle had begun to decry their positions too, but no one had any idea how to turn things around.

“I volunteered to cross the border to find you to beg you to help,” the brunette justified her reason for being there – dining in comfort, while her friends were suffering. “I know you’ve been back a few times and I know you were trying to shake things up before you left, but there must be something else you can do, Emma. We’re desperate. If the Ev… if your wife is as accommodating as you say she is, she shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

Emma smiled to herself and thought, _my, haven’t the tables turned._ She spent the next couple of hours reassuring her friend that she and Regina were looking into ways to solve this problem. Every instinct she had told her that she could trust the wolf with their plans, but a small voice in the back of her mind, which sounded annoyingly like her wife’s, cautioned her against giving away too much.

As the young queen left her friend to sleep off the exhaustion from her journey, she wandered back to the office to write up everything she’d learned that night, while it was still fresh in her mind. It took longer than she expected since her eyelids insisted on dragging her eyes closed every few minutes, but eventually, she blotted and closed her ledger and left to find her way to her room.

Emma didn’t pay much attention to the hive of activity at first. It didn’t occur to her that so many servants were not usually scuffling about the corridors this late at night, but eventually, the tense atmosphere penetrated her fuzzy haze and she reached out to stop a young man on his way past.

“What’s going on?” she asked in confusion.

“You don’t know, your majesty?” he startled. At her raised eyebrow and impatient expression, he hastened to elaborate. “Sir Henry has passed. The Queen – your wife is with him now.”

Emma froze. Her eyes closed for a few seconds as she absorbed the terrible news, until the young man shuffled nervously beside her and asked to be dismissed. “My wife is in her father’s room?” He nodded. “Yes, you may go.”

She followed at her own subdued pace for a moment before her self-pitying thoughts turned to Regina and suddenly, she needed to hold the woman close, to let her know that she wasn’t alone. Adrenaline kicked in to pull her back from the brink of collapse and she entered the old man’s room with caution. If she hadn’t felt stupid for her rash flight before, seeing Regina’s shaking form slumped over the figure in the bed made her want to kick herself harder than ever.

Instinct took over and she found a spot by Henry’s legs as she pulled her wife into her arms. It was surprisingly easy – the brunette seeming to want to cling to anything in that moment. Emma rocked gently and whispered soft reassurances that she expected made no sense to the sorceress at all. When she could feel her back aching and sleep pulling at her once more, she gently pulled Regina to her feet and ushered the brunette to her own room.

By the time they reached the dark queen’s suite, Regina had slipped into a silent stupor. Emma continued to speak to her softly as she helped her to undress but there was little else she could do. She pulled back the covers and sank to her knees by the side of the bed as the brunette crawled inside and dragged the quilt around her shoulders. Green eyes drank in the fear and anguish that gazed back through glassy brown and Emma swore in that moment that she could see right into her wife’s soul. She longed to reach out and touch some part of the grieving woman, but she wasn’t sure how well her advances would be received and squeezed her fist tight where it hung by her side.

“You know where I am if you need me, Regina,” she whispered and reluctantly started to stand. She wasn’t sure what made her hesitate, but her inability to leave in swift fashion gave the brunette time to gather the strength to reach out and grab the hem of Emma’s tunic. “Regina?”

“Don’t leave me,” the dark queen’s gravelly voice ripped from her throat. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Emma didn’t bother to ask her wife if she was sure. Every part of her wanted to stay anyway and knowing how difficult it was for the sorceress to ask for help in the first place, she knew that second guessing wouldn’t help either of them at that moment.

“Alright,” the blonde answered. “Just give me a minute,” she added as she began to shed her own clothes.

Guessing which drawer held sleepwear, Emma stripped off as fast as she could without making too much noise and slipped into a nightdress. She left everything draped over the same couch she’d sat on the first night of their married life and crawled into bed beside the distraught figure. Despite the fact that they had never actually shared a bed before, Emma didn’t let any of the awkward tension stop her from wrapping her arms around her wife and pulling Regina against her body. There might have been some growing attraction between them lately, but tonight wasn’t about that. This was her friend. Her best friend really. And she was hurting. Emma vowed to hold her wife for as long as the gesture was welcome because even ex-Evil Queens needed to lean on someone every now and then.

* * * * *

As when Regina had spent the better part of a year in bed, the heavy curtains in the queen’s bedroom refused to allow the early morning sunlight to penetrate and wake her. She slept through the first few hours, held securely by a pair of strong arms and feeling content in spite of the events of the night before. When she woke, it would be different. When she woke, she would remember why she had wanted Emma to stay, why she had feared being left alone – but in slumber, her mind just knew that she was safe and images of her father comforted rather than tormented.

Though usually the one who hated waking up in the morning, Emma was the first to feel the circadian rhythm of the day and blinked into consciousness. It only took a glance at the body in her arms to recall why she wasn’t in her own bed and she felt tears prick the backs of her eyes as she thought about her father-in-law.

Sir Henry had welcomed her as part of his family without hesitation. He had taken her under his wing many times and comforted her in the early days of her marriage, when his daughter’s temper grew wild. He’d helped her to understand this incredible woman and nurtured their relationship so that they reached this place where they could find comfort in each other.

Emma spared a thought for her own father but didn’t dwell on him. She wouldn’t run off any more without a solid plan in place; she couldn’t afford to put that kind of strain on her relationship with her queen or her kingdom. Besides, as selfish as it was, she wanted to stay wrapped around her wife and savour this moment for as long as possible. Regina’s vulnerability, which had pushed her to the point of asking for help, would not have survived the night. Emma knew that the moment her wife left sleep behind, she would throw up a new wall and all of their physical intimacy would once again become a distant dream. Perhaps she could use this time to think up ways to stop that from happening? At the very least, she could commit the dark queen’s scent to memory.

As predicted, Regina froze when she woke to the feel of arms wrapped around her. Memories of the previous night punched her in the gut and she scrambled from the bed without a care for whether her companion was awake or not. She watched with conflicted feeling as Emma stretched and rolled out of the other side to pad around to the couch.

“Leave me,” Regina hissed as she felt the pain of loss creeping upon her again. It was bad enough that she’d allowed herself to break down in front of other people the night before, she was damned if she would do it again in the daylight.

Emma raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Nice try. I’m going to get someone to draw you a bath.”

Regina frowned. _What is she up to? Does she think me so weak that I can’t perform simple tasks?_ “Why?” she demanded, turning to the blonde with hands on her hips.

The young queen abandoned the mindless inspection of her outfit from the previous day and approached her wife. Never having had to comfort someone in mourning before, she couldn’t help attempting a joke, “Because you stink?” Regina glared and she recoiled playfully. The situation was no laughing matter, but she knew the dark queen well enough to know that pity and mollycoddling were the opposite of what she needed. Finding her more serious side, she added bluntly, “Because you need it. Because you’re my wife and I hope one day that you’ll be kind enough to do the same for me…” Under her breath but audible, she considered Regina’s reaction to her parents’ demise. “… And save the celebrations for when I’m not around.”

Regina managed to crack a tiny smile at the dark joke. For Emma’s sake, she would summon the effort to be respectful at Snow or Charming’s death, but she couldn’t pretend that a part of her wouldn’t be just the tiniest bit relieved to never have to see them again. The blonde’s refusal to leave her to stew in her thoughts actually warmed her.

Sensing a thawing of the brunette’s thoughts, Emma wrapped her hands around her wife’s upper arms in what she hoped was a comforting and welcome gesture. “Regina, we’ve known this was coming for a while. I’m not suggesting that makes it any easier, but your father appreciated all the time we spent with him. He wasn’t afraid to leave, but he did worry about you. I promised him that I wouldn’t let you bury yourself behind anger and indifference. I know you think that needing people makes you look weak, but you’re wrong, and I don’t think any less of you for needing me last night. In fact, I needed it too; I haven’t slept that well for some time.”

“So, a bath?” Regina reminded the blonde.

“Yes,” Emma jumped and grabbed her clothes. She hesitated for a moment, her garments in hand as she looked around for somewhere to change. The sorceress was so used to using magic to dress and undress, that she didn’t bother with a screen and Emma blushed at the idea of stripping off again with the brunette watching.

Unexpectedly, a wicked smile crawled its way onto the dark queen’s lips. “Problem, dear? Shall I summon a blindfold to wear?”

Green eyes narrowed and then, rising to the challenge, Emma turned her back on the brunette, ripped the nightdress over her head and began tugging her shirt on before Regina could even think to avert her gaze. By the time the blonde had her trousers laced, there was a decidedly pink tinge to the dark queen’s features and Emma smirked in triumph as she sat to pull her boots on.

Once she was alone again in her room, Regina released a long breath and closed her eyes. Behind her eyelids, tumbling, golden locks brushed a large expanse of pale skin and she groaned. _She’ll be the death of me,_ she thought and chuckled to herself. It was entirely inappropriate to be thinking of such things just hours after her father’s death, but she could say with absolute confidence that he would have encouraged every moment of flirtation between her and Emma if he was aware of it.

“Oh, Daddy,” she sighed as the situation punched her again. “I miss you so much already.”

The bath did help to give her some time to think and find some balance between sorrow and regal poise. There was still so much to do and with the letter from Snow playing on her mind too, she began to regret spending so long in bed that morning. The night had helped her to release some of her angst, but it was day now and time to put a lid on ‘Regina the daughter’ in order to do her best job as ‘Regina the Queen’. Her kingdom was facing disaster and though she had a funeral to plan on top of everything else, she didn’t have the luxury of wallowing in her agony.

* * * * *

Emma made a mental note to order a bath for herself before the end of the day, but as she snuck out from Regina’s bedroom, she sniffed discretely at herself and decided that washing wasn’t the priority for what was left of the morning. Assuming that breakfast had already been served and that Red was eating her fill, the blonde made her way to the dining room to look for her friend. As expected, the wolf was hunched over her plate, tucking into breakfast meats and mostly ignoring everything else.

“Morning,” Emma greeted as she took her usual seat and reached for what was left of the sausage.

“Hey,” Red mumbled around the food in her mouth. She tore off a chunk of bread from the door-step slice that lay on her plate and washed it down with several swigs of milk. “You guys have so much good food,” she gushed.

Concerned and a little alarmed, the blonde buttered her own bread and tried not to gawp. “When was the last time you ate before you got here?”

“The rebellion manages to keep regular supplies coming in, but rations are strict. With my metabolism, it’s never enough,” the brunette replied.

“Well, you don’t have to stuff yourself now,” Emma told her friend. “You can order food from the kitchen at any time.”

That got Red’s attention and she deliberately slowed her eating to regard the young queen. Remembering her manners this time, she swallowed before speaking. “It used to be like this at your mother’s, didn’t it?” There was a soft melancholy to her tone that was so unlike the usually upbeat wolf and it seemed to suck any joy from the air around them. “She doesn’t let anyone but your dad sit at the table with her now, not unless they’re rich, powerful or deadly – usually someone with a combination of those qualities.”

“That is _not_ my mother,” Emma insisted and closed her eyes to give her time to control any further outburst. Losing her temper was going to get her nowhere. Remembering that her wife could be joining them soon and she’d told Regina nothing about their guest, she realised that she needed to change the topic slightly. “Red, before Regina joins us, I need to warn you.” She saw a fearful frown pass over now brown eyes and realised how her words must have sounded. “My father-in-law died last night. She’ll try to act like nothing has happened, but go easy on her, okay?”

The expression on the werewolf’s face softened, and now that she wasn’t stuffing herself with food, she could study Emma. Instinctively, she leant closer to her friend and sniffed. “You smell like her,” she observed curiously.

Emma smelled herself again but couldn’t detect anything unusual – except perhaps the lingering scent of horse on her clothes. She knew that Red’s heightened senses would find things that she couldn’t though. “I stayed with her last night.”

“Is that unusual?” the wolf wondered aloud, her expression becoming more quizzical, bordering on teasing.

The queen blushed at the implication, and at the realisation that she would very much like to spend more nights like the last. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Regina that she’d slept better than ever with the brunette next to her. “You want to know how often I spend the night in my wife’s bed?” she asked with false bravado.

“All I hear these days are resistance plans and death tolls,” Red grumbled. “It would be nice to get a bit of gossip with my breakfast.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Emma responded. “But when it comes to intimate moments with Regina, I don’t like to share.”

“Possessive,” the brunette chuckled.

“Can you blame me?” Emma smirked. “Have you seen my wife?” It was rare that she had a chance to share how she felt about being married to the ex-Evil Queen. In fact, other than Sir Henry, she had never spoken to anyone about how much she really cared for the dark sorceress. This realisation wiped all sign of playfulness from her expression; she was never going to have that opportunity again.

As the blonde had half expected, Regina was a no-show at breakfast. Emma put aside some fruit, bread and cheese to take up to the office, but didn’t think her wife would touch much of it. Despite enjoying the company of her visitor, she missed the physical closeness of the dark queen. Her heart and head were still torn between Regina’s loss, her father’s kidnapping, the kingdom’s wellbeing and her mother’s insanity, but after such a peaceful night, her body craved that contact and reminded her of it constantly.

She guided Red to the room where she and Regina normally met with visiting dignitaries for business. Red frowned at her when Emma insisted that she sit and wait, but in the end, the wolf shrugged and did as she was told. The blonde swallowed the awkwardness that she felt; three years was bound to change their relationship, but asserting her position as queen was not something she’d anticipated having to do. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she knew Regina would lecture her about etiquette, she probably would have given in to the hang-dog look and allowed the wolf straight into their inner sanctum; it was only out of consideration for Regina that she felt able to do it.

“I brought something for you to nibble on, if you feel up to it,” Emma told her wife as she entered their shared work space.

Regina glanced up from her desk and made a face at the plate of food. Her gaze wandered up to compassionate green and marvelled at the depth of emotion there; being cared for was something that she still found hard to understand. She rolled her eyes and gestured for the blonde to place the offering beside her. Unenthusiastically, she began to pick at it.

“Happy?” the sorceress grumbled as she masticated a small lump of cheese.

Emma offered a gentle smile and nodded. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you to eat. I just want you to look after yourself.”

Regina appreciated the sentiment and regarded her wife with a fond expression. Her stomach was in knots and the idea of putting anything in there made her feel nauseated, but she wasn’t going to allow herself to be anything less than her best. “As much as I don’t feel like it at the moment, if I don’t eat, the work suffers, so thank you.”

“Any time you need anything, let me know and I’ll do my best to get it for you,” Emma replied with a blush. She wasn’t sure what was making her so accommodating, but taking care of Regina just felt right. Catching a tolerant eye-roll though, she decided that she’d pushed enough for one morning. “I’m sorry for running off yesterday. It was stupid. I didn’t appreciate how fast things would change after a declaration of war.”

Cunning, brown eyes shot up from the paperwork on the desk and stared at Emma. “Something happened,” Regina concluded rightly. A pounding, cloying fear clawed at her chest. Abandoning her food and chair, the dark queen shot up and walked the width of the room with agitated steps. She immediately began to imagine the worst. “Yes, you were stupid, and selfish. Do you have any idea what would have happened had you been killed out there?”

Emma’s first instinct was to argue back, but this time, her better judgement prevailed. How would Regina have coped with the death of her father and her wife in the same night? She winced internally. “I’m sorry. I promise, no more half-strung rescue attempts.”

The brunette’s eyebrow arched in disbelief, but she seemed to accept the sincerity in green eyes. “So, just fully-strung rescue attempts then?”

The blonde shrugged sheepishly before deciding to move the topic along. “Something did happen. After coming to my senses and turning back, we came across an old friend of mine. She was being chased by a hoard of… something. I’ve left Red in the conference room; I thought you might like to talk to her with me?”

This piece of information pulled the brunette’s expression back into a frown. “You trust her? Wasn’t she your mother’s best friend?”

“Yes and yes. Just listen to what she has to say. It sounds like she has contacts who will be very useful to us if we can convince them that we can work together.”

The sorceress nodded and popped a grape into her mouth before heading toward the door. They entered the conference room and found the wolf pacing. Amber eyes locked in on the ex-Evil Queen and narrowed as they absorbed her toned-down appearance. Very few people from Snow’s kingdom had seen the witch since her repeated attacks on the White Queen. Most recalled the elaborate hairdos, dark fabrics, decadent jewellery, plunging necklines and warning sneers. Snow White’s recent outcries against the once-feared queen had done nothing to dissuade the people of the evil image they remembered, but as the wolf looked over the powerful monarch now, she saw little of the former terror.

“Red…” Regina began as she gave the tall brunette her own appraisal. “I hope you’re house-trained. We generally don’t let animals into the meeting room,” she goaded with a smirk.

Emma hid her amusement with a smack to her wife’s shoulder. “Be nice!” she warned and bit back her smile.

Regina noticed the tightening gaze across the room and knew that she was being sized up. Enjoying the playful slap for the brief physical contact that she’d grown to need, she chuckled at her wife’s reaction and stalked the length of the room to stand before their guest. Playing on the reputation of her former persona was entertaining enough to bring some temporary relief from the events of the previous evening and she grabbed the opportunity with both hands. “Oh, I’ll do better than _nice_ , dear. So, Red,” she began again, cutting right to the chase. “What exactly do you think you can contribute to our little operation?”

Red’s cautious gaze flicked to Emma for reassurance before settling back on the shorter brunette. “Snow’s kingdom has suffered for too long. First at your hands and now this.”

“I take it, the years of poverty in between were enjoyed by all,” Regina shot back.

“The people loved her and she loved them,” the wolf countered, knowing that the dark queen had tried in vain to make the people love _her_.

Regina heard the insult and switched her tone from provoking to hostile. “I’m sure that must have been of great comfort to the mothers of starving children.”

“Ladies!” Emma interrupted, sensing the impending conflict. “I think we’re getting off track,” she suggested calmly. “Red, you were going to tell us how you can help us, to help you.”

The two brunettes glared at each other for a moment, both feeling the sting of old memories, but at last, the visitor relented. “Many of Snow’s people are too weak or cowed to offer any resistance against the bandits and bullies who plague her lands, but for those who have nothing left to lose, they’ve managed to band together to form a small army along the far border, where the forest thins out and there’s nothing but mountains and then desert. We’ve had a few successful raids but the situation is getting worse and there just aren’t enough of us to make a difference.” She sighed, all energy appearing to drain out of her. “They sent me to find you, Emma. To beg our princess to help.” She tried to gage the witch’s thoughts from her expression but had little luck. She turned her gaze on the blonde then, looking every bit as desperate as she sounded. “Emma, the people are willing to swear their allegiance to you if you can free them from Snow’s grip.”

Blonde eyebrows rose with surprise. “Even knowing who I’m married to?”

The wolf glanced between the two queens and hesitated. On her arrival, she had assumed that Emma’s attentiveness to Regina’s wishes was an ingrained, submissive trait developed over three years of marriage, but the way the two each came to the other’s defence, she was less sure. Knowing her friend’s innate ability to sense lies, it seemed she had little option but to be honest anyhow. “I think they assume that you will be glad of the opportunity to escape the Evil Queen’s clutches.”

The sorceress scoffed with disgust but tempered her outburst when she felt a placating hand on her arm. Emma stood tall beside her spouse; her body language protective. She thought that her conversation with her friend the evening before had made her position clear, but the wolf apparently hadn’t believed her. “This is my home. Regina is my wife, and my friend; I won’t leave her.”

Red thought about this and her expression contorted. “I don’t know if they will accept the Evil Queen as their sovereign.”

Regina rolled her eyes and moved away to gather her thoughts. Did it really matter if they still saw her for her evil counterpart? The power she’d yielded through fear was still a part of her and she had made a sort-of promise to herself not to regret the darkness she’d walked through to get to where she was now. With a sigh, she turned back to the wolf. “Whether they accept me as their queen or not is of little consequence,” she started to explain. “What they need is a monarch who cares for their wellbeing and has the means to follow through. They already have the former; Emma and I can help with the latter.”

“What do you mean?” Red asked in confusion.

Emma read between the lines though and knew what her wife meant. “It’s like I said before, the woman on the White throne is not my mother. Snow White would never do this to her people and she needs saving as much as anyone else.”

“If we can restore Snow to her former, annoyingly chipper self, her people will have their queen back and Emma can help to bring back order while the kingdom recovers.” She sighed and leant her hands against the edge of the table. “They need not know that I have any hand in their affairs.”

The tall brunette considered the proposal as she tried to find some hint of deception behind the words. When she couldn’t find a downside, she sank into a chair at the table. “You mean, you would help Emma to bring Snow back into power?” she asked doubtfully.

“If Emma’s not happy, I’m not happy,” the dark queen admitted reluctantly. “She would not be happy with a job half done. If it suits your opinion of me better though, imagine that I merely anticipate the day when the White line is no more and the entire kingdom is mine.”

“That’s right,” Red suddenly realised. “You’re immortal. You could have planned all this to bring Snow down!”

Emma looked horrified at the accusation and jumped to defend her wife, but stopped at the chuckled that came from Regina.

“Yes, I could have,” the sorceress acknowledged happily. “Don’t think that it didn’t occur to me after I made the deal for Emma’s hand. My wife is the sole heir to Snow’s kingdom and as it stands, I will outlive her. This time, there will be no disputing to whom the kingdom belongs.”

The blonde frowned. This was exactly what Snow and her people would think when they heard that the Evil Queen was involved in their revolution. She didn’t like the thought of anyone assuming the worst of Regina and wondered for the first time if encouraging the dark queen to help was the smartest thing to do. The last thing she wanted was for her wife to be in the line of fire.

“You admit it so freely?” Red wondered aloud. She was confused by the confession. Surely the Evil Queen would not be so open with her scheming.

“Yes, I admit that I considered it. It is still something that crosses my mind from time to time. Unless Emma and I have children of our own, it is inevitable, but it is hardly something that fills me with joy. No longer at least.” She sighed deeply. “I just lost my father. I do not relish the thought of living to see everyone I care about die. Contrary to popular belief, I am not heartless.”

“Ok, I believe you,” the wolf decided at last. “It will take some time to convince the others though.”

“Time is something we have precious little of,” Regina noted calmly.

Emma’s demeanour was not quite so placid though. “We have to find a way to get to my father. Whoever is behind Snow’s fall from grace is using him as a way to fuel this war. We cannot allow it to gain momentum.”

The wolf nodded thoughtfully. “You mentioned that last night. Do you really have no idea who is behind all this?”

Emma shook her head but caught her wife’s thoughtful frown from the corner of her eye. “What is it?”

Regina faltered, knowing that once she said the words out loud, the possibility would feel so much more real to her. “I think I may know. I might be wrong – it could be someone unheard of, but my gut tells me otherwise.” At the feel of two pairs of eyes boring into her, she relented. “All of this, it reeks of my mother’s influence.”

“Your mother?” the taller brunette gaped. “Is she immortal too?”

Emma’s reaction was much more heartfelt than her friend’s. Her soulful gaze fell on her wife with confusion swirling in their depths. “Why haven’t you mentioned this before?” she all but whispered.

Regina instinctively moved closer to the blonde and placed a hand hesitantly on her arm. “I didn’t want it to be her and I had reason to believe that she was dead.” She maintained eye contact in the hope that Emma would believe that her motivation was not to keep secrets or hide information from her. She desperately needed her wife to know that she simply hadn’t wanted to muddy the issue with falsehoods. “I saw her body and mourned her years ago.” She sighed and, feeling a headache coming on, rubbed at her temples with both hands. “The more that I think about it though… it’s not unlikely that she played me for a fool and thwarted my assassin.”

“ _Your_ assassin?” Red asked, astonished. “You wanted to kill your own mother?”

“If you had met her, you wouldn’t find that thought so reprehensible,” the dark queen assured the visitor. “I can’t say for certain that it’s her, but I can no longer ignore the feeling of dread that I have.”

With that thought hanging over their heads, knowing that they would probably be holed up for a few hours yet, Emma left briefly to make arrangements with the kitchen for lunch. When she returned, the three talked in circles about the state of things on both sides of the border, until they were all hoarse. By the time they felt they’d learned everything they could from each other, they were still very aware that this was only the beginning.

Their advisors and state leaders began to arrive at the castle shortly after midday. The declaration of war from Snow had made its way around the kingdom and they all wanted to know what the two queens were planning to do to answer the threat. It had taken years, but Regina had rid her kingdom of anyone who smelled even slightly of corruption – that included every man who had worked for her late husband. The bunch she was left with might not have the stoutest hearts or strongest stomachs, but they were as loyal as politicians were likely to be and followed orders well. They were clever enough to use their initiative when it was needed and not stupid enough to risk betraying their queen’s trust. They would see that their lands were fortified and their people prepared. Until the queens knew what they were really up against, there was little else they could do but keep their ears to the ground.

The dark sorceress repeated the instructions she’d given to her people in Queen’s Rest. With a rebellion flanking Snow’s land, there might be more crossings than she’d first anticipated and the more they could help the White queen’s subjects, the better their rapport would be with the rebels. Once all of the details were hammered out and nervous minds were soothed and reassured, she turned to the subject of King David.

“Snow has defended her declaration of war by suggesting that we captured her husband and have him in our dungeon. This is a falsehood. We have reason to believe that he may have been taken to King George’s castle so that the finger of blame could be pointed at us… At me mostly,” she added under her breath. “Finding my father-in-law is a priority, but we cannot simply storm George’s castle; he will deny all knowledge and we might never know where they hide David next.”

“If he’s there at all,” one of the men piped up and received a grim but acknowledging nod from the blonde queen.

Regina nodded too, her eyes straying to Emma’s for a brief moment, knowing how difficult she must be finding this situation. She spared a thought for her own father, remembering for a moment the agonising year when he’d been a prisoner in Wonderland. “With news of war being whispered in everyone’s ear, it would not be unusual for one monarch to visit another in the hope of gaining allies. I propose that my wife and I pay George a visit and see what we can glean.”

This plan was welcomed all round. Promises were made to keep everyone informed of their progress before the meeting was finally brought to an end and the queens were left to their own devices for the remainder of the afternoon. Regina excused herself to return to the funeral plans for Sir Henry, refusing any offer of help from her wife.

Since Red had taken herself off for a run around the castle’s perimeter, arguing that she had the best senses and would notice anything threatening before any of the guards, no matter how well trained they were, the blonde was running low on distractions. Emma suspected that the wolf just needed to be out in the fresh air after being trapped inside all day. She didn’t blame her. The young queen was tempted to go for a wander too, but she knew that it was a bad idea. Not desiring anyone else’s company except Regina’s, Emma assigned herself to the battlements, where it was relatively quiet.

The watch was on high alert, their eyes barely straying from the horizon to acknowledge their queen before they were scanning again for signs of attack. Captain Briggs and Lieutenant Fowler had changed up the rotation so that each watch served only a two-hour shift before being relieved for other duties, food or sleep. Where in times of peace, when Emma might catch a couple of guards passing the time in conversation, they were not nearly so relaxed now and the queen worried for the coming days. If they were kept at high alert for too long, their performance would begin to suffer – it was to be expected. She made a mental note to insist that each shift be allowed time for recreation at least once a week. Something to distract their minds from thoughts of battle in the hope that it would prevent complacency from setting in.

Knowing that these measures could only be temporary, Emma turned her thoughts to her mother. Snow was in just as much, if not more trouble than her father. Whatever dark force had gripped the White queen; Emma knew that it wouldn’t easily let go. She wanted to talk to her mother, to confront Snow White and demand answers, to cry and beg for an end to this conflict, but neither approach would do any good while her mother was not herself.

Emma longed for those moments when she could count on her mother to wrap her up in a warm hug and keep the world at bay for a while; when they could laugh over something silly or hide themselves away somewhere and eat stolen treats from the kitchen. Even the elaborate balls and poufy dresses held a semblance of nostalgia at a time like this.

She remembered the last real mother-daughter conversation they’d had, shortly after her wedding. Snow had expressed her relief that she and Regina had made such a promising start to their marriage and had even gone so far as to tease the blonde about grandchildren. There had been no hint then of resentment, and Snow had encouraged her to visit as often as she could, but on her subsequent trips to her childhood home, the mood had changed. Perhaps Emma should have seen the warning signs then, but between the worsening state of her parents’ kingdom and her wife’s refusal to listen to anything related to Snow White, she’d been caught between a rock and a hard place – any writing on the wall had passed by unnoticed.

Stars dotted the sky and twinkled, decorating the dark canvas of night by the time Emma made her way back inside. She was too weary even to eat and made her way to her room, where she crawled into bed and tried in vain to sleep. Moonlit shadows crept silently across the room as the minutes turned into hours and slumber continued to elude her. It wasn’t until she was on the verge of tears, her frustration and exhaustion working together to drive her mad, that she gave up and rolled out of bed.

Drawing on her robe, she hesitated at the door before deciding that rest was more important than the risk of rejection and left her room. Down the corridor, she trod with tentative determination until she arrived at Regina’s door and knocked softly. She hoped that the sound was loud enough to be heard by someone as wakeful as her, but quiet enough not to disturb someone already deep into dreamland. Mostly though, she hoped that she wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the night alone with only her tormenting thoughts for company.

After a minute, she tried again, giving herself a limit of three knocks before she would resign herself to a sleepless night. Her second attempt convinced the occupant that she was not hearing things however and the door creaked open enough to reveal Regina in her nightdress.

The dark queen frowned at her visitor, but stepped aside immediately as she recognised the blonde. “Emma? What’s wrong?”

Emma took one shaky breath before a tear rolled down her cheek and half a dozen more joined it. “I… I…” she tried to explain herself but her thoughts were in a whirlwind and all of her worries crashed into one another, catching her throat in a vice-like grip. Was it Regina’s voice that had set her off, or simply the presence of someone she trusted so implicitly? Whatever the reason, she fell on her wife and held on like the brunette was a life-raft, saving her from drowning in her fears.

For her part, Regina simply wrapped her arms around the blonde’s torso and rubbed her hands across the plain of a soft yet muscular back. She had an inkling of what had driven the young queen to her room, but hardly cared at that moment, so long as Emma was there. She hadn’t even bothered getting into bed, knowing how unlikely it was that sleep would claim her, so she had sat at her desk and plotted out numerous scenarios that might help them in the coming days. She knew that she needed rest now more than ever, but it didn’t come easily to her at the best of times. Only twenty-four hours had passed since her father had left this world for good and without Emma’s comforting presence, she’d chosen to at least preserve her sanity by doing something useful.

Now, it seemed that she didn’t have to worry about being alone tonight. The shame she’d woken with that morning faded the longer she held her wife, soothing the sobs which wracked the taller body. They could be this for each other, she realised abruptly. Sir Henry had always been the person she turned to when she absolutely couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, but who had Emma sought for comfort? There was something selfish in the way her body swayed with Emma’s and sank into its warmth. She didn’t bother to ask for an explanation – that could wait until morning – but she steered them towards the bed instead and, without a word, pulled the blonde under the covers where they spent an awkward moment positioning themselves.

Almost as soon as the head of blonde hair hit the pillow, Emma felt all energy leave her body and fell into unconsciousness. Her limbs became dead weights – the arm which she’d thrown across her wife’s body, pinning the dark queen into place.

Regina smiled in contentment and wriggled slightly to push back into the blonde’s frame.


	14. Deceptions and Flattery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've uploaded two chapters, so be sure to read the previous chapter (Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Queen) before proceeding!

A week turned into two with no sign of attack from Snow and no response from George to the queens’ request for an audience. Henry’s body was ready for burial by the end of the first week and the funeral held on the tenth day after his passing. With safety on the roads being so questionable, Regina had refused to hold a wake and deferred it for when travel was fluid again. It humbled her that so many people wanted to pay their respects to her father and she made that clear in her responses, but she was a practical person at heart and knew that there would be ample time to indulge in rituals after she and Emma had dealt with the mysterious shadow behind Snow White’s metamorphosis.

These sorts of decisions, along with the endless waiting, took a toll on her though, which was why she found herself waking up for the fifteenth consecutive day, with strong arms wrapped securely around her waist.

Regina sighed with contentment as her eyes fluttered open and a new day greeted her. In the midst of so much emotional turmoil, Emma’s steady presence supported her in ways that she had rarely experienced. Realisation was gradually dawning on her that her feelings for her wife were vastly more complicated than she’d let herself believe. Regina knew that she was attracted to Emma; that much had been apparent since their wedding. She also appreciated the blonde’s company, enjoying those nights when their work was done and they could share a drink after dinner and sit in conversation for hours. The young queen was intelligent, lively and strong willed. She was many things that Daniel had not been, but instead of repelling the sorceress’ affections, if anything, the pull was stronger.

It had taken many weeks, even months to admit what she now knew for certain – she was falling in love. Despite how much she had wanted to avoid this situation again – to protect her heart from the pitfalls that came with attaching herself to another person this way – she held onto her wife each night and enjoyed the excited beating in her chest and the tingling of her skin.

Emma stirred and clawed her way from sleep about an hour later. The queens exchanged soft good mornings and polite enquiries before they slipped from the bed and began their day. Since Red’s arrival at their castle, Emma’s morning routine typically began with an hour’s training with her guard. Lieutenant Fowler and Captain Briggs had both voiced concerns over the queen fighting. Women made up twenty percent of their number, but since it was their job to protect Emma and Regina, they argued that the monarchs’ first instinct should not be to pick up a sword.

Emma disagreed and after a somewhat heated discussion, managed to convince both men that it was in everyone’s best interest if they learned how to defend their kingdom side by side, not with her waiting like a sitting duck. After all, Regina had her magic and was fairly handy with a foil. No one even tried to challenge the ex-Evil Queen on the matter of her involvement in the fighting. Emma failed to see the difference.

It was late in the afternoon when a rider finally brought King George’s answer. Regina tore open the seal and began to read before she’d even reached her office and she plopped it in front of her wife the moment she’d finished.

“He agrees to see us,” Emma commented after she too had scanned the missive. “Why the delay?” she wondered aloud.

“A tactic to aggravate us, or to remind us that he has the upper hand since we will be the ones asking for help?” Regina replied. “… As far as he knows. Or he might need time to plot with his partner in crime. Though we have yet to confirm his involvement in all of this.”

“Everything we have coming in from our messengers points to his involvement,” Emma reminded the brunette.

“I know, Emma, but it won’t do us any good if we make assumptions and they turn out to be red herrings,” the sorceress argued softly. “Either way, it seems like we have a trip to plan for.”

Red chose to stay at the castle, pointing out that their stronghold would be an easier target without its mistresses there, but Emma suspected that her friend was rather more concerned with drawing the hoard of pursuers down on them before they could make it beyond the woods. The wolf had tried once or twice to widen her patrol, but encountered an attack every time. She came back after the last attempt muttering about having a target painted on her, which Regina took seriously and spent over five hours making potions to test the theory. Emma and Red looked at the sorceress as if she’d lost her mind, but when the results came back, neither laughed.

Taking a friend of Snow’s to negotiate an alliance against Snow was probably not a great idea anyway. Or so Regina grumbled as they left a pouting werewolf behind and entered the forest.

They had to travel with the carriage since they were visiting another royal, and not one that they were close with. They could get away with trotting up to Abigail’s front gates on horseback, but it wasn’t proper etiquette for most others and Regina was adamant that they not lose face before they even set foot inside George’s walls. However, there were hours to kill before it came to that, so the royal couple rode in front of the ornate box and talked in hushed tones about everything but the war – lest the trees had ears.

The ride would take the best part of the day again, so they made arrangements to stay with their friend for the night. Emma still loved to watch things disappear and reappear in her wife’s hand whenever she needed a quick response from a request or inquiry. She swore that she could feel the magic in Regina’s fingertips for hours afterwards whenever they inadvertently touched. Not only did staying with Abigail save them from travelling home in the dark, but it would give them the perfect opportunity to see what she had heard without fear of their messages being intercepted.

The dark queen’s laughter echoed sporadically around the forest as the group made their way across the kingdom. She and Emma had fallen into exchanging stories of misdeeds in childhood and she had no problem picturing a tiny, blonde princess presenting herself at dinner covered from head to toe in mud. Or any of the other numerous situations that her wife had gotten herself into in her youth.

In contrast, her own childhood was relatively uneventful – if you didn’t count the fact that she’d lived with a monster.

“Come on,” Emma urged from beside the brunette. “There must be something you did that Cora didn’t catch wind of.”

Regina sighed. “Honestly, Emma. Other than Daddy and I sneaking the odd sweet, the only thing I really defied her with was Daniel.” A solemn silence followed these words and stretched on for several seconds. “I learned early on that she was not a woman with whom one trifled. She was a hard woman to please and I spent many hours of my childhood trying to earn her approval. Every hint of praise came with a caveat.” She winced at the memory of some of those occasions before adopting the woman’s tone, recalling her mother’s disappointed words verbatim, “ _Your posture is improving but if you get any fatter, Regina, no man is going to want you. I shall have to tell cook to halve your portions again.”_

Emma’s compassionate expression became dark instantly and she clenched her hands around Bracken’s reins, picturing them wrapping around Cora’s neck. She thought about how much effort it took to encourage her wife to indulge on occasion, especially when they were with company. Suddenly, it all made sense. “Regina, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, and that is never more true than when you have just woken up, with your hair in disarray and crust still in your eyes, or when you’re sneaking sweets when you think no one is watching. I am so fortunate to be the one person in all the world who can say that they’re married to you.”

A blush reddened her cheeks and Regina looked around self-consciously, avoiding Emma’s intense gaze. Though anticipating a rebuff of her mother’s words, she hadn’t quite expected such profuse defence of her physical appeal. While she had spent years manipulating others with her body, deliberately flaunting her assets, the attraction her wife spoke of was something she didn’t quite know how to respond to.

She decided that simple and light-hearted was her best bet and shook off her embarrassment. “Thank you, dear. I do appreciate flattery from time to time.”

Emma shook her head but smiled fondly. “If there was a way to capture the look of you in the morning, before you’ve completely woken, I would carry it with me always just so I could gaze at it to lift my spirits and remind me to treasure what I have.”

“Careful,” Regina responded as she unsuccessfully suppressed yet another blush. “Those Charming genes might get you into more trouble than you can handle.”

“If that’s supposed to discourage me, it’s unlikely to work,” Emma chuckled. “It sounds like the kind of trouble I readily attract.”

Up ahead of the queens, two head guards exchanged knowing smirks. As much as their mistresses tried to downplay their burgeoning closeness, when they were engaged in conversation with each other like this, the lilt to their voices and the frequency with which their eyes met were clear indications that deeper feelings were present beyond those required for their betrothal. While it was commonly assumed that physical intimacy had bound them together on their wedding night, there had been little evidence of that continuing until recently. The entire castle was abuzz with gossip now that Queen Regina and Queen Emma were sharing a bed most nights, and many renewed their whispering about a new little prince or princess. While no one had expected there to be any sort of camaraderie between the Evil Queen and the daughter of Snow White when the wedding had first been announced, it was clear that their kingdom was stronger for the union.

As they approached the border some hours later, Emma and Regina transferred to their carriage and continued to converse in soft whispers to confirm their plan of attack with King George. They didn’t imagine that he would be at all reasonable in his dealings with them; their kingdoms had not been on great terms since Queen Regina had fired all of the advisors who dealt with George’s corrupt associates, but they were determined to keep him talking long enough for their spies to infiltrate the bowels of his castle.

Servants gossiped in every large house and secrets were currency everywhere. If King David was not in the dungeons, they hoped that someone would be able to tell them where he was being held. Considering how poorly George treated his servants, it was unlikely that any were particularly loyal to him.

As expected, the king was in his throne room when they arrived. Planting himself there was usual posturing. For dignitaries that were welcome and powerful, he would have met them at the front door with a grand procession, but for those he disliked, a show of authority and mild disrespect were his chosen weapons.

Regina cared little for pomp and circumstance these days and so entered the grand hall with a slight smirk curling her lip. She knew she couldn’t start by being too obnoxious – talks would end before they had barely begun – but there was no harm in winding the old goat up a bit, and by the expression of irritation on the king’s face, she knew she’d hit her mark.

Emma followed her wife’s lead, though mastered her own expression into something meeker and troubled. She needed to present the picture of a worried daughter not an angry, vengeful one. She lagged behind the dark queen, making it seem that she was more a ‘wife on a leash’ rather than the equally powerful monarch that Regina was helping her to be. Outside of their own kingdom, gossip mongers still liked to assume that the Evil Queen had taken the White princess under duress and kept her as a trophy and proof of her triumph over Snow White. Much as Emma hated the rumours, this time they could be used in their favour.

“Queen Regina and Queen Emma,” George began his grandstanding by leaning back on his throne and steepling his bony fingers together. His face had been weathered by the years and his bitterness at being unable to procure an heir to protect his legacy. As it stood, his throne would pass to the child of a distant cousin and he was hanging onto life now through sheer spite. “To what do I owe this visit?” he asked, his right eye ticking slightly at the disinterest with which the sorceress scanned the room.

Her sharp, glinting gaze fell over cheaply woven tapestries and moulting, mounted heads of beasts and felt her mischievous side rise up like a tide. George liked to pretend that he had wealth, but without Midas’ support through their children’s union, he still hadn’t managed to pull his kingdom back from debt. Time was running out for him and it made him an easy target for any who wanted to manipulate him; despite numerous eye witness accounts, it was only now that she was certain of his involvement in instigating ‘Snow’s’ war.

“Oh, you know very well why we’re here,” Regina began without a proper greeting. “War has a habit of uniting even the oldest of adversaries, under the right circumstances.”

Emma bit her tongue and stared at her feet for a moment as a grin crept upon her unexpectedly. How had Regina put such an emphasis on ‘oldest’ without appearing obvious about it? She chanced a glance at her wife and tried to hide her admiration behind what she hoped looked like anxiety. She thought about how she would pout at her father when she wanted something from him and channelled that into her expression too as she looked up at the king through her eyelashes.

George hesitated and controlled a frown. He had expected Regina to be somewhat contemptuous, but he had hoped too that she might grovel a little. “Yes, it would seem that conflict with your step-daughter might once again tear apart your kingdoms. I don’t see how that concerns me.”

“Mother-in-law,” Regina corrected coolly and gestured to the blonde queen next to her as if to prove a point. “And it should concern you, George,” she added and smiled at the pursing of his lips while she continued to ignore any deference to his title. “We might be trading partners no longer, but I assure you, your economy will suffer if Snow manages to dig her claws in. Many of your market products come into your kingdom by way of mine. If I have to shut everything down, your profits will plummet.”

The king tried not to let his concern show on his face as he thought about the validity of the dark queen’s assessment, but he wasn’t a skilled poker player and allowed more than one tell to slip past his expression. Thinking that he had the upper hand though, he brushed aside the potential fallout. He would be amply compensated, and the peasants would just have to deal with hungrier bellies for a while – it would serve them right for their laziness.

“And if I go against Snow White, I will lose any deals I have with her,” he threw back. “Not only that, but allying myself with the Evil Queen? I might lose all credibility with my other partners. No, I think it’s time you paid for your crimes.”

Emma hissed in anger but bit her lip just in time to make her outburst seem like it was born out of fear, not rage at his audacity. Regina had many crimes to her name, she knew, but George had been equally villainous and had never once attempted to make amends. Her wife had. He was treading on thin ice. She felt his gaze pass over her and she shrank back as if to deliberately make herself invisible.

Regina caught the movement beside her and played to their game. “Don’t fuss, Emma,” she admonished with carefully crafted irritation before turning back to the throne. “Snow’s deals are worthless. If you are not aware of that, you’re a fool. If you are aware and are choosing to ignore the fact, I cannot help but suspect that you are already playing for the other side, George.” She paused for effect; her meaning was obvious – if he had chosen to ally against her, he would regret it. “I am not a patient woman. Which is it?”

For a split second, the king appeared like a deer caught in the glare of moonlight. He scowled as he recovered and turned his attention to the shy creature beside his enemy. “Queen Emma, you are very quiet. Have you nothing to say on the subject of war with your mother?”

As rehearsed, Emma looked to the dark sorceress with questioning eyes.

“Go ahead, dear,” Regina allowed with a condescending glance. “We have nothing to hide from his majesty,” she all but mocked. After a dismissive gesture, she turned back to the throne. “My wife is rather less concerned with the prospect of war as she is with her father’s mysterious disappearance. Perhaps you can enlighten her on the situation.”

George’s jaw twitched and his eyes widened ever so slightly. “I want to know _your_ thoughts, Emma,” he repeated, his own thoughts whirring at the manner in which the Evil Queen controlled the young blonde.

Green eyes flicked rapidly back and forth between the other two monarchs. “I stand by my wife,” Emma began docilely. “If my moth…” she looked abruptly at Regina and hesitated. “If Snow White insists on waging war, we will… destroy her,” she finished half-heartedly. Before anyone else could speak again, she appeared to drum up the courage to continue, “Have you heard anything of my father?” she asked desperately.

The dark queen rolled her eyes and shot the king a look as if to say ‘see?’, but he ignored it. Again, his thoughts ticked over and he filed away the undercurrent of dominance and submissiveness between the two queens. A part of him couldn’t help wondering how else the sorceress chose to assert her control over the White heir, but he shook off such distractions for now. He had much to report on his meeting today and they’d barely been in his castle twenty minutes. What more could he glean if he pretended to consider Regina’s request for his assistance and kept them there another hour or two?

“I had heard that it was your wife who was responsible for your father’s abduction,” he told the blonde with his own haughty air.

“He is not with us… but you knew him,” Emma persisted and forced her voice higher. “I believe you adopted my uncle as your son. They were twins. Are you sure you know nothing of my father’s whereabouts?”

George felt an unexpected spike of pity for the Evil Queen as her wife’s voice began to grate on his nerves. Did she whine this much at home? He fixed a firm gaze on the blonde and insisted, “I do not know where King David is.”

Emma felt satisfaction and anger fill her up even as she feigned disappointment. He knew. He’d looked directly at her and the lie was clear in every word. She shrank back, lowered her head and choked on a sob – a private signal to the dark queen that he was involved somehow in the conflict which faced them. They would have to wait until later to find out if Charming was being held here, but at least they knew for sure that he was plotting against them.

“There,” Regina snapped. “Now you can stop blithering on about it.” Turning back to the king, she shrugged a bland apology. “Shall we discuss the possibility of terms or shall I continue to Queen Abigail’s? I have confidence that she and I could win this war without your assistance, but I have no patience left for Snow’s tantrums. I would rather squash her and be done with it.”

Smirking to himself, George nodded. “Let us retreat to my study and speak further on the subject. You may yet pique my interest in your little quarrel.” He stood and stepped down from the throne. His once imposing stature had diminished with age, but he barked at his servant to bring wine and they jumped.

Over an hour later, Emma and Regina climbed into their carriage and began the bumpy ride away from King George’s kingdom. As per their usual arrangement when they were this far from their own castle, they headed to Abigail’s for the night, but neither queen spoke or even looked to each other across the small expanse of their box as they kept up their fiction. It wasn’t until they hit the cover of trees that they pulled the curtains on the world outside and each breathed a sigh.

“Well done, dear,” Regina grinned as she turned to her young wife. “I had no idea you had such talents with deception. I particularly enjoyed the part about us destroying Snow.”

Emma rolled her eyes at the playful teasing. “That one was just for you, my queen.” She got lost for a moment in dark chocolate before catching herself and clearing her throat. “Playing the downtrodden wife was simple enough, but do you know how difficult it was not to laugh every time you took a shot at him? I nearly had to bite off my own tongue!” she whispered harshly.

The sorceress smirked. “I know. Between his reddening face and your struggles not to laugh, it was very entertaining. I don’t think I’ve had so much fun.”

Emma wanted to continue with the teasing, but a tear pricked at her eye and she felt her breath catch. “I’m glad,” she spoke softly. “It’s good to see you smile again.”

Despite the reminder of her recent loss, Regina fell into her wife’s tender gaze and felt warmth fill her chest. A hand slid into hers and instead of flinching at the unexpected touch, she wrapped her fingers around it.

A particularly violent dip of the carriage wheels into a pot-hole broke the queens from their staring match and they both turned away to shake off the tension of the moment. They began to chat again in low tones about their visit with the king and their assessments of the man. They returned to business, but unnoticed between them, their hands remained entwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, more mushy moments.


	15. An Escape and a Breakthrough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Festive Felicitations to you all. My gift to you; a three-part update!
> 
> Part One... Launching right into the action... Enjoy!

Riding home from Abigail’s on horseback, the couple chatted and tried to enjoy the opportunity to be out from the confides of their castle for a while. The air was frigid with the coming of winter, but their heavy cloaks kept most of the chill from their skin, so it was a surprise when goose bumps abruptly rose on Emma’s arms and their company became aware of danger approaching.

After weeks of waiting for Snow’s forces to attack, complacency had begun to set in. Emma had predicted that it might happen with their soldiers back home but somehow, she had expected her and Regina to be immune. A crackle of magic tore through the air and adrenaline flooded her system. She exchanged a look with her wife before pulling her bow from its sling. The horses stamped their hooves restlessly, the animals sensing the tension in the humans and the surrounding trees but, being well trained, they held their ground.

Regina’s hand cradled a fireball, ready to launch. It wasn’t immediately apparent what had tipped them off but within seconds, shouting erupted from both ends of the track and feral creatures poured into the road.

Emma pulled an arrow from her quiver and loosed it into the hoard. She winced at the otherworldly scream that tore from her target, but didn’t pause before knocking a new arrow and embedding it into the leg of another charging beast.

_Beast_ was the first word that came to all of their minds, though their attackers looked like they used to be men. Their snarling features and wild mannerisms harked strongly at something between a dog and a bear, and there was no hesitation in their approach; they were predators and were out for blood.

Though lacking deadly canines, the soldiers put their own weapon to good use and charged through the sea, trampling deliberately with the horses’ powerful hooves and slashing swiftly through throats and limbs. Any concerns that the onslaught might prove too much for their meagre force began to fade as the number of strewed bodies rose and the battle slowed. Eventually, with one last burst of flame, the dark sorceress felled the few still attempting to advance and they breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Your majesties…” Captain Briggs began immediately but was swiftly cut off by the brunette queen.

“We’re fine, Captain,” Regina told him tersely.

“What the hell was _that_!?” Emma blurted as she continued to hold her loaded bow. In the heat of battle, she had fallen into a zone where her training took over and muscle memory kicked in, but now that she could examine the destruction around them, she held the weapon in a death grip, afraid to let it go.

No one really had an answer for the blonde, but when her wife opened her mouth to offer a calculated guess, the sound of slow clapping clawed everyone’s attention to the road and the sight of a figure approaching from not too far away.

“An impressive performance, I must say,” a raven-haired woman praised them as she sauntered up to the now dead creatures and kicked one with the toe of her boot.

Mouths opened in shock all round but it was Emma’s voice that penetrated the frigid air. “Mom?” she gasped in horror.

Queen Snow chuckled darkly and captured the blonde queen with malevolent eyes. “Hello, sweetheart. Did you miss mommy?”

Emma opened her mouth to say more but hesitated at the feel of a hand pinching tightly to her arm. She turned her devastated gaze on her wife and found a depth of hatred, longing and understanding that she didn’t immediately comprehend. “Regina?” she all but whispered.

The dark queen shook her head minutely, her keen scrutiny fixed unerringly on the image of her former step-daughter. Before she could open her mouth, Snow twisted a hand in the air and the soldiers surrounding the two queens froze. “That’s not your mother, Emma,” she said with complete confidence. “It’s mine.”

A cackle escaped _Snow’s_ throat and the clapping resumed. “Well done, dear.” The figure waved her arms dramatically over her body and transformed before their eyes into an ageing but still lively Cora Mills. “I taught you something worthwhile after all it seems.”

“Hello, mother,” Regina greeted the older woman, her tone seemingly devoid of any affection.

Emma understood her wife well enough to know that Regina had to be tied up in knots inside. Any time the dark queen had spoken of her mother, it was to say that Cora had been unapproachable and often cruel as a parent, but there was always a longing behind her words when she talked about the woman, and Emma knew that all of the neglect and abuse had not completely rid Regina of the need she had for her mother’s love. She nudged her horse ever so slightly closer to her wife in the hope that her proximity could offer some comfort and kept her fingers wrapped loosely around the string of her bow.

“What have you done with Snow?” Regina asked after a beat.

“Oh, she’s minding the castle, the little dear,” Cora breezed. “She finds being out and about awfully taxing these days, so I volunteered to see to the war in her absence. She’s as naïve as ever, isn’t she? I was disappointed to hear that you’d made a truce with her, but now I see that you were playing the long game. Brava, Regina.” Her sharp eyes passed over the former White princess and she smirked. “Claiming Snow’s brat was a stroke of genius.”

Regina bristled. “I have not ‘claimed’ her, mother. We are partners.” The word felt insignificant as it fell from her tongue, but she couldn’t exactly say that they were lovers.

Cora’s eyes narrowed and she studied the blonde again, looking for something else this time. She reached into the girl’s mind and immediately found what she suspected – innocence, bright and untouched. She waved her hand and pulled the blonde queen from her mount, letting her fall into the dirt. When Emma started to scramble to her feet, Cora closed her fist and froze another victim in place. Regina winced, her muscles tense and ready to leap to Emma’s rescue, but otherwise she didn’t move. Her mother was testing her resolve and she knew it would be a mistake to leap after Emma so soon. She could tell by the movement in green eyes that Cora had left her wife’s consciousness intact though. All the better for torture, she was sure.

“Tell me you bedded her, Regina,” Cora spat as she turned back to her daughter. At the flush that rose to the dark queen’s cheeks, she knew she had her answer. “Oh, you foolish girl,” the old woman mocked. “Do you realise the power you might have yielded with Snow’s brat cowed at your feet? You should have taken her while she still feared you. Used your magic to beget an heir of your own line. One which you could control.”

“I would not do unto her that which was done to me,” Regina spat back. “And any children we might have will be raised with love not control. I will not have them fear me as I feared you!”

Cora scoffed. “I see you have yet to learn your lesson. You are not honestly waiting for the girl to fall in love with you, are you?” She mocked. Again, she saw her answer in her daughter’s heightened colour. “How many times do I have to tell you, Regina? Love. Is. Weakness.”

The ex-Evil Queen took a moment to control her breathing and thought rapidly about how she could turn the situation around so that Emma was no longer in danger. “Mother, if there’s to be any hope of unity between Snow’s kingdom and mine, I need Emma alive,” she tried to reason, though panic was evident in her voice as Cora moved closer to her wife. Assaulting her mind were flashbacks of a stable and the crushed heart of her loved one blowing in the wind.

The witch smirked knowingly. “Yes, dear. You need her body. We both know yours is broken…” she taunted. “You do not need her heart though.”

Regina’s voice cracked with desperation and she tensed atop her horse as she lost her resolve and continued to plead the way she had as a child. No matter how useless she knew it was, she couldn’t help trying. “Mother, please, I’m queen now. Don’t you have what you wanted?”

An exasperated expression fell over Cora Mills’ face as she glared back at her daughter with mock pity. “Regina, you being queen was never about giving _you_ power. If you won’t control your enemies, I will do it for you. I will do what you cannot and you will obey me. You all will.”

“No… Mother, no!” Regina hardly knew that she was moving as she threw herself from her horse and half leaped over the mound of bloodied bodies towards her wife. Her mind was in a state of terror as she realised that she was about to watch her worst nightmare replay in front of her eyes. It didn’t matter if Cora’s intention was to control Emma’s heart rather than crush it – having her wife under her mother’s thrall was just as much a nightmare. Though she had never had the courage to acknowledge it openly, her feelings for Emma had burrowed so much deeper into her soul, creating a tether between them that held with it her reason for living. With Emma’s heart, Cora would control both of them and all would be lost.

_Regina bid goodnight to her friend and host, appreciating the time Abigail chose to spend with her in companionable conversation, but at the same time, she really wished that the other queen had chosen to go straight to bed without following her to her suite. For too long she lay, staring at the gilded ceiling, wondering whether her wife was still awake or not._

_Should she tiptoe down the corridor and let herself into Emma’s room? Would it matter if anyone saw her? Would Emma welcome her company, or was she enjoying the chance to have a bed all to herself?_

_Considering the fact that it was Emma who had taken up the habit of falling asleep in Regina’s room, she didn’t think her wife would reject her presence, but just the act of removing herself from bed, crossing the space between their rooms, and crawling into someone else’s bed was a feat in itself. The whole process was entirely alien to her and it took the best part of the next hour for her to sum up the courage to make it to Emma’s door._

_“Emma?” she whispered as she entered the room and crept closer to the bed._

_A head of blonde hair shot up from the pillow, a smile hidden in the dark as she threw back the covers and whispered back with abject relief, “Get in.”_

_Neither commented on their inability to sleep without the other’s presence. Regina moulded herself against her wife’s back – a reverse of their normal position – and breathed into the blonde’s neck. In a world where so many people still looked upon her as an enemy and a monster, it just made sense that she would find solace in the one person who accepted her every failing._

“Mother, stop!” Regina screamed as she scrambled over the last body and came face to face with the witch. She saw staring back at her the wicked enjoyment that she remembered well from her youth as red-tipped claws hovered, ready to strike. Tears pricked her eyes and she searched desperately for her magic, her hands summoning spindly vines to entangle themselves around the witch.

Cora sneered and shrugged off the pathetic attempt. “Weak,” she repeated and plunged her hand into Emma’s chest.

“No!” Regina cried and felt the strength leaving her body.

She sank to the ground and watched in horror as her wife’s expression tightened in pain. She watched her mother tug in that all too familiar motion of ripping a heart from someone’s body. In that moment, she wondered if she deserved this; for the countless hearts she’d taken and the lives she’d ruined. But then Emma moved, breaking from the power of Cora’s spell and her face shifted from pained to determined. Green eyes narrowed and she pushed back against the hand in her chest, propelling the witch several metres across the path and into a tree.

Regina knelt, stunned, her glassy gaze gaping stupidly at the blonde queen. Was this real? How could it be? How could anyone defeat her mother with such ease?

“She’s out cold.” Emma’s voice came from where Cora’s body lay beside the tree.

The blast had been powerful enough not only to dislodge her magic from the blonde but the soldiers too, who looked on with concern at their monarch who’d collapsed on the ground. Emma returned to her wife and pulled the brunette to her feet, her hands holding tightly to Regina’s arms to ground her.

“How…?” the dark queen whispered.

She felt the strength returning to her body and with Emma’s touch, magic flowed through her veins with renewed force. It was a heady feeling and reminded her of all the times she had touched her wife and felt the underlying current of some hitherto unknown power. For a short while now, she’d suspected that magic lingered beneath the blonde’s skin, but she had never guessed that it could be so intense when unleashed.

Emma couldn’t even begin to process what had just happened within her body, but the stupefied expression on her wife’s face was enough to make her chuckle. A groan from the motionless witch caught her attention though and she shot a panicked look at the brunette. “Get us out of here… now, Regina!”

The dark queen held tight to Emma and focussed on the feel of their combined magic pulsing through her. From the corner of her eye, she saw as Cora fumbled around for purchase and Regina began to panic. Her magic faltered and a whimper fell from her lips.

Emma grabbed the sorceress’ face and forced their eyes to meet. “Look at me, Regina,” she implored. “You can do this. I believe in you.” She wasn’t sure what gave her the idea, but she pressed her lips against her wife’s and let them linger there.

Regina forgot all about her mother. She forgot all about old torments and feeling weak in the face of her own personal monster. She forgot about lost love and the pain of having her heart broken. All that mattered in that moment was the kiss that connected her skin to Emma’s. Like a supercharged cell, she burst with energy, her magic wrapping around their entire entourage, horses and all, and in the blink of an eye, they found themselves standing in the courtyard of their castle.

The gasps of surprise barely registered inside the sorceress’ mind as Emma’s lips released their hold and she felt her body sag. Strong arms prevented her from falling but the effort of transporting so many people such a distance had taken its toll and black spots filled her vision before she passed out completely.

* * * * *

Cora regained her senses just in time to see her daughter disappear with the White princess and their soldiers. It took her a moment to understand what had just happened. She could still feel the blonde’s heart in her hand, could still see the anguish on Regina’s face as she prepared to rip the organ from its cage. Somehow, the little brat had magic. Magic powerful enough to counter her own.

Emma must have been responsible for carrying them all to safety because her daughter’s attempts to stop her had been useless. Enough so that she was embarrassed for Regina even if it did work in her favour.

With a wave of her hand, she crossed from Queen Regina and Queen Emma’s land back to Snow’s castle. She stalked the halls without challenge now, the servants only looking at her long enough to know which way to run from her presence. Her feet carried her from the main floor to the dark halls below the castle where the Charmings kept their prisoners. Well, where the Charmings would keep their prisoners, if they were not too soft to punish their criminals. At the very last cell, she stopped and for a few minutes, silently observed the pathetic individual within.

“Still pining for the shepherd?” she taunted before waving her hand and opening the door.

Red-rimmed, glassy eyes stared up at the witch with a mixture of fear and resentment. “You won’t get away with this,” Snow vowed with all the strength she could muster.

“How my Regina put up with you for so many years without strangling you in your sleep, I will never know,” Cora told the captive queen.

“It’s because she still had her heart,” Snow answered confidently. “Because she hadn’t given herself completely to the darkness.”

Cora laughed. “Well, your father and Rumpelstiltskin did their best to see to that, didn’t they?” At her prisoner’s guilt-ridden expression, her amusement turned into a cackle that reminded Snow strongly of the Evil Queen. When the jarring noise died out, she thought back to what she’d just learned in the forest. “And yet, she seems quite taken with your daughter. Tell me, Snow – how is it that your spawn possesses magic?”

“What?” the queen responded with shock. “Emma has magic? _My_ Emma?”

“Hmm, can it be that her powers are just now surfacing?” the witch muttered to herself. “No, she could not have transported so many with such little training.”

While Cora paced and organised her scheming, Snow thought hard about what _she’d_ just learned. Had Regina found love again? With her daughter? And did her daughter possess magic that could defeat this snake in her home?

So much of her life had turned out opposite to how she’d envisioned it. Her only constant was her husband – her true love – but even David had not conformed to the conventional thinking she’d been raised with. After living as a bandit for so long, she hadn’t cared what his vocation was, but she sometimes wondered if the princely robes he’d been forced to wear by King George had been a sack-cloth instead, would he still have turned her head? If the Evil Queen hadn’t chased her into exile, would she have settled for a real prince or member of aristocracy instead?

Sat here in the dark, in the dungeon of her own castle, held at the hands of the very woman who had duped her into betraying her saviour, Snow was close to giving into despair. Cora tormented her every day with the sad state of her kingdom, the fate of her husband and the plans she had to crush their daughters in battle. Every day, she lost a little more hope of ever reclaiming her life. She was powerless to save anyone and she only had her own complacency and naivety to blame.

But still, while Cora paced and organised her scheming, Snow thought hard and considered the ramifications of magic and love. She knew something that Cora Mills would never believe – love wasn’t weakness, it was magic. Between Emma and Regina, maybe the future wasn’t as bleak as she’d assumed.

* * * * *

Regina’s thoughts were jumbled as she tried to regain consciousness. She saw visions of her mother holding Emma’s heart and men with bloodshot eyes trying to devour her flesh. Her arms flailed against invisible enemies until they were captured by something solid – something warm and enticing. A voice sang to her through the dark and she climbed towards it.

“Regina?” Emma called as she held the dark queen’s wrists gently between her thumbs and index fingers. “Regina, it’s Emma. You’re home. You’re safe.”

The sorceress’ eyes blinked open and the moment she set eyes on her wife, her breathing relaxed and she sank back into the pillows beneath her. “Emma,” she sighed with relief. Her bedroom came into focus and she frowned. “How did we get here?”

“You magicked us all back to the castle and I carried you up here,” the blonde answered.

An eyebrow arched in admiration and brown eyes drank in the definition of the younger queen’s arms. “Indeed,” she muttered to herself. Remembering that she was being watched, she glanced back at her wife’s face to find amusement and warmth starting back at her. She cleared her throat. “You have magic,” she commented to break the intimate tension. “I knew I felt something, but this is… You are so much more powerful than I realised.”

Emma accepted the change of topic graciously. There would be time to address more personal feelings later. “How do I have magic?”

Regina wriggled her arms out from beneath the covers and pushed her body into a seated position. It took every ounce of effort she had and it was only then that she realised how much energy her spell had drained her of. “True love, I guess,” she replied thoughtfully. “Your parents have it and you are a product of it. It’s powerful.”

Emma held herself back from offering assistance, knowing that it wouldn’t be appreciated. Her fingers tingled, longing to touch her wife again. She recalled those words from Snow’s story of when she and Regina had first met and focussed on them to distract her. “You told my mother that, when she was a child.”

“Yes. A conversation that haunted me for the longest time,” the older queen replied. She was used to the words tasting bitter on her tongue. Surprisingly though, there was nothing left but sympathy for her younger self and the child she’d grown to hate.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, dear,” the brunette replied with a smile she reserved just for her companion. As hard as it had been to let go of her first love, she had finally accepted the fact that her heart had somehow mended itself and was attached unerringly to this beautiful creature beside her. “We have today, let’s leave the past where it belongs.”

“We have today thanks to you,” Emma smiled and found Regina’s fingers with her own, the temptation having grown too great. At the brunette’s eye roll, she chuckled and changed the subject slightly. “You know, your mother uses that word too.”

“What word?”

“ _Dear_ ,” Emma clarified. She watched a frown fall over Regina’s expression and realised immediately how little her wife would like the comparison. “I much prefer the sound of it from your lips,” she hastened to add. “When she says it, my skin crawls.”

“I know the feeling.”

They sat in quiet contemplation for several minutes, both reflecting on the events of the day. After the shared enthusiasm from yesterday’s victory over George, they’d carried themselves tall, feeling as if nothing could stand in their way, but then Cora’s attack had cut them deep and now they were left licking their wounds. Two things stood out like bright spots though; Cora’s inability to take Emma’s heart, and the fact that light magic had been enough to incapacitate her for a short while.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to start training you to use your magic,” Regina said eventually. “My magic was useless against her; you might be our only hope.”

The blonde nodded slowly. “When you’re up to full strength, we’ll begin. Right now, I need to get back to the office. We’re looking into plans to rescue my dad.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Regina started to edge out of bed. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked and put a hand on the brunette’s shoulder to hold her back. “You need to rest.”

A dark eyebrow rose in astonishment. “You are suggesting that I lie around in bed while you’re hatching potentially life-threatening plans and waging war?” She scoffed and knocked Emma’s hand aside. “I don’t think so.”

Emma rolled her eyes and huffed, but didn’t move out of the way. Both hands reached out this time to gently discourage Regina from leaving the bed. “You have enough heroics to your name for one day. You need to get your strength back.”

“Emma…”

“Regina, please,” the blonde entreated. Their eyes met and locked. “I need you to take care of yourself.” She offered an endearing half-smile and dropped her hands to her lap. “You scared me today.”

“Emma, I’m… I’m fine,” the dark queen attempted to convince her wife, though she stopped trying to get up. She looked at the genuine concern behind her wife’s eyes and melted inside. “You scared me too,” she added softly after a long pause. Somewhere inside, she cringed at the open vulnerability that seeped from her pores. “When she reached into your chest…”

“It was like my body was on fire,” Emma finished with a shudder. “And then I heard your voice and I had to get to you.”

Regina felt her world spin around those words. She felt green eyes scrutinising her every expression and felt panic begin to coil in her belly. “I’m getting up,” she insisted and growled at the hands that held her back once again. “Are you planning to do that all night?” she grumbled.

“If I have to!” Emma grumbled right back. “You need to eat and you need to sleep.”

“Fine!” Regina relented. “But you’re not allowed to start talking about rescue attempts without me,” she specified after a beat.

“But…”

“No,” the dark queen’s voice was adamant. “In fact, how about a compromise?” she added as an idea came to mind.

“What kind of compromise?” Emma asked with suspicion.

“You have had a long day too, haven’t you?” Regina began. “You can’t tell me that you’re not tired after nearly having your heart ripped out and discovering that you have magic.” She waited for a nod and continued in triumph. “Then you can lie down with me.” At the blonde’s surprised expression, she cleared her throat. “At this point, I don’t think there is any point denying the fact that we each sleep better when the other is around. Our magic might have something to do with that,” she added awkwardly, hoping that Emma didn’t see the flushing of her cheeks.

The blonde nodded at the idea of taking a nap. There were still a few hours of daylight left, thanks in large part to the fact that they’d travelled half the length of their kingdom in the blink of an eye. She stood slowly and explained that she needed to order food and a wake-up call before crossing the room to the door. It had become her habit not to challenge her wife on the addictive energy that flowed between them; on the stupidity of them both actively ignoring a mutual attraction; on the fact that almost the entire kingdom was talking about what they were too afraid to admit to each other – that they were falling hopelessly in love.

Her heartbeat picked up speed as she reached for the door handle and gathered her courage. It was past time to get it all out in the open. Before disappearing from view, she paused and called over to the sorceress. “Regina?” she said and waited for the dark queen’s attention before adding, “I think we both know that magic has very little to do with our sleeping habits,” she confessed before winking and leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Emma just threw down a gauntlet. About time, huh?


	16. To Plan a Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas update: Part Two of Three.

“Emma?” Regina called across the quiet of her bedroom.

The blonde’s words were still just beginning to fit into place in her mind after the door closed and the sound of footsteps disappeared. _Did she mean…?_ her inner voice supplied in shock. The answer was glaringly obvious and her heart began to hammer against her ribcage. Panic gripped her and she held a hand against her chest as if the organ was going to burst right out of her. Her eyes closed. She covered them with her hands and took several deep breaths.

Any minute now, Emma was going to be back. She was going to crawl into bed next to her, after having shone a blazing light on their unspoken attraction… Were they really expecting to sleep after that?

_I love her._ _She makes me weak…_ that voice sounded serious inside her mind. Her thoughts turned to Daniel, to her mother, to Cora’s hand reaching into chests and pulling out hearts.

A sob caught her throat and her body shuddered through it.

She had been fine with the pretending. Had grown used to admiring from afar and deluding herself to believe that her desires were a fantasy, that Emma would never return her feelings beyond friendship. Even sharing a bed had slotted into that comfort zone she’d built around herself. A wall of protection that was becoming flimsier by the day, but to which she continued to cling.

_Oh, get a grip, you pathetic weakling!_

Regina froze, blinked and then dropped her hands. What was she doing? Had she really suffered through so much torment, dedicated years of her life to revenge, and then worked so hard to pull herself back from the darkness, only to live in fear of the one thing she most desperately wanted?

_No,_ she told herself sharply. _You’re a queen, Regina. You got rid of your mother once, you got rid of Leopold, you saw the last of Rumpelstiltskin and you got your revenge on Snow White… You will not cower because your wife makes you want to prostrate yourself at her feet._

The image of putting herself at Emma’s mercy was a powerful one, and one that filled her with both longing and trepidation. Without conscious thought, she pushed herself to the edge of the bed and struggled to her feet. She looked down at her clothes and thanked the heavens that no one had tried to change her out of her riding gear other than to remove her cloak and jacket. At the door, she grabbed the first pair of slippers her hands touched, ignoring the fact that they were mostly pink, and made her way down the corridor.

Instinct carried her to the kitchens where she knew her wife would be. If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the residue of Emma’s light magic and the way it made the nerves in her fingertips tingle pleasantly. Resolve and purpose fuelled her every step, wobbly and fatigued as they were. She found the blonde chatting animatedly with the head cook, arguing flippantly over what the royals would have for their evening meal. Regina smiled internally, content to just watch for a while as her wife’s presence served to bring life and laughter to a place which had once housed such darkness.

It was the scullery maid who spotted her first and fumbled with the pots she was carrying. Emma and Cook looked around at the noise and then green eyes were homing in on the dark queen, emotions warring across her face for dominance.

“Regina?” Emma gasped as she noticed the brunette and then sighed as she saw the way her wife leant against the wall for support. “Was I really taking so long?” she teased as she moved to take the exhausted woman’s arm.

Aware of all the curious eyes on them, Regina felt exposed and shot a look around at her staff. “Leave us,” she ordered and watched as most of them scattered. As the cook hovered, she raised an eyebrow and asked, “Well?”

Cook hesitated only a moment before wiping her hands on her apron. She looked the once feared queen dead in the eye as a smirk hung from one corner of her mouth. “I would appreciate having my kitchen back shortly, your majesty; dinner doesn’t cook itself you know, and by the looks of you, you’re going to need a good spread tonight.” She disappeared through the back door, but not without throwing a conspiring wink at the younger queen.

Once alone, Emma turned on the brunette and huffed her displeasure. “You look like you’re about to keel over. Is there an emergency somewhere?” she wondered, half in jest. Though with recent events, it was all too likely.

Regina ignored the question and repositioned herself so that she was leaning more comfortably against the wall. “What you said… about our sleeping habits… What did you mean?”

Emma pursed her lips in thought. She didn’t think it was a question that needed an answer; her meaning had been plain enough, but perhaps Regina needed the words to be said without coating them. She could see how uncertain the brunette was – the fire in her eyes burned through a myriad of shades of desire and indecision. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I think you know exactly what I meant.” Her right hand moved to rest against the dark queen’s cheek and she stepped a little closer, bringing their bodies a fraction away from touching. Regina’s breathing faltered and a sound like a whimper caught in her throat. Emma smiled warmly. “I sleep better with you next to me…” she teased.

“Why?” Regina asked, taking the bait willingly.

“Because you make me feel safe. You make me feel loved. And because I know that when I wake, I will get to see your beautiful face. I get to see your eyes open first thing in the morning and see them light up when they land on me. For the rest of my life, I never want to spend another night without you.” The words poured out like honey – slow, rich and sweet. Emma watched her wife’s response carefully, hoping to avoid any sudden outbursts or protests. She was confident that they both felt the same way, but she wasn’t entirely sure that Regina was ready to acknowledge it openly.

Lids closed over dark, conflicted eyes. Regina’s hand lifted with a mind of its own to rest on top of Emma’s, her head turning to hide for a moment in the blonde’s palm. Being brave, she realised, was not the same as being full of wrath and throwing caution to the wind to inflict pain on an enemy. Courting death while consumed with anguish and hatred was almost effortless; the one fuelled the other. Courting love when her mind and body remembered the torments of the dark so well – that was bravery. To throw herself at the mercy of her feelings for Emma was inviting that pain back into her life. Had she not just experienced that when her mother’s hand plunged into her wife’s chest?

Regina Mills would not allow herself to be a coward any longer though. The affirmations she’d whispered in the darkness of her bedroom returned to her. She was not going to let fear dictate her life. Not anymore.

“You make me feel all of those things too, Emma,” Regina said softly into the air between them. Despite her inner pep-talk, anxiety grabbed her again when the blonde’s expression brightened significantly and green eyes flicked down to her lips and back. But when the young queen hesitated for too long and lost her nerve, Regina tightened her grip around the hand resting on her cheek and sighed with frustration. “Damn it. Just kiss me already!”

Emma needed no further encouragement and brought her other hand up to tangle in silky locks as she pressed her lips against her wife’s. She lost herself in the sensation, tracing and retracing the shape of Regina’s mouth, ignorant of time passing until their breaths were heavy and sounds between a whimper and a growl started drifting from their throats. It was only when her wife’s body began to sag further down the wall that she remembered the events of the day.

“You really should be resting,” she muttered against the corner of her queen’s mouth.

A chuckle replaced the sounds of encouragement from Regina. “Dear, are you so keen to get me back into bed?” she teased.

Emma’s skin flushed. Heavens. Would they get anything done this afternoon if they went back to bed now? Her brain put a damper on things when it reminded her that her father’s freedom, and possibly his life, hung in the balance. Groaning for an entirely different reason, she pulled away from Regina’s tantalising lips and rested their foreheads together. “I want that… so much.”

Hearing the hesitation in the blonde’s voice, Regina used her grip on Emma’s shoulders to pull herself upright again, exchanging the solidness of the wall for the deceptive softness of her wife’s body. “But we have business to attend to,” she agreed reluctantly. “Well, we’ve waited this long,” she added, trying not to sound too disappointed.

“If I escort you back to your room, are you going to stay there?” Emma wondered aloud. With her wife’s arms around her neck, she tightened her grip around the brunette’s waist.

“Not without you, dear,” Regina answered emphatically. Seeing the conflict in green eyes, she relented a little. “A new compromise? Why don’t we take this meeting in my suite and have dinner brought there too? At least you know I won’t have far to go if I overexert myself.”

The young queen thought it over and nodded eventually. “I would rather not wait any longer to set things in motion,” she confessed. “The sooner we can agree on orders, the sooner the rescue can get underway.”

Regina’s lips brushed against the shell of an ear. “Yes, and the sooner I can have you all to myself, and when I finally have you, I don’t want to be disturbed for hours,” she whispered just as the back door inched open and cook’s head peeked carefully around. “It’s safe,” she called to the impatient woman. “We’re leaving.”

Cook appeared almost disappointed – whether for her interruption of an obviously intimate moment or because she had hoped to catch a glimpse of something more gossip-worthy, it wasn’t clear. She immediately got back to work as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “It’s your castle, your majesties. Who am I to tell you where you can spend time together?”

With the brunette’s words still ringing in her ears, Emma gripped her wife’s arm perhaps a little harder than necessary and escorted her up to the sitting room that attached to Regina’s bedroom. She escaped to retrieve the others from the conference room, the ten-minute round-trip giving her just enough time to calm her racing heart and to analyse the various throbbings and tinglings spread liberally throughout her body.

She wasn’t a stranger to desire; she’d had musings as a teen about holding hands with a particularly yummy squire; had woken up from dreams of kissing some faceless figure with certain parts of her aching for attention; had yielded to self-exploration after many months of watching her wife’s leather-encased legs and fantasised about how they would feel beneath her finger tips…

But all of that paled in comparison to the actual feel of Regina’s lips on hers, and of her wife’s hands gripping her clothes and flesh.

She thought back to their wedding night and, beneath her relief, the strange sensation that was akin to disappointment. It still surprised and comforted her when she remembered the dark queen’s behaviour that night. She had not been ready for the physical side of being married – not mentally at least. Her body might have known that there was something magnetic in Regina’s touch, but deep down, she knew that she would have resented her spouse afterward.

Of course, that knowledge didn’t stop her from imagining it playing out quite differently. Now, with real memories to fuel the fire, the images came to her more readily. Several seconds of expectant silence passed before Emma looked up at the faces in their meeting and realised that she’d been mentally absent from the proceedings.

“Apologies, my mind was elsewhere,” the blonde queen mumbled while avoiding knowing, brown eyes. “Would you mind repeating that?” she asked awkwardly, unsure to whom she needed to direct her request.

“I said, I think our escape would benefit from a surrogate ‘King David’,” repeated an older man further down the table. “If a guard should notice a prisoner missing, he will immediately raise an alarm, but if a body were left in place of that prisoner, it would give us time to put a safe distance between us and King George’s castle. We are proposing the use of a prisoner from your own dungeons, your majesty.”

Emma’s eyebrow rose in thought. She did want to give everyone their best chance of escape. Especially since they were risking their lives for her father’s safety and since she wanted them all to have the opportunity to see their own families again. Could she really condone sending one of their own prisoners to take Charming’s place though? She and Regina had taken pains to ensure that their prisoners were afforded basic care and a modicum of respect. Assuming that their crimes had not warranted a swift beheading. George, undoubtedly, made no such provision for his captives – particularly those who were part of a plan to rob him of a highly prized political prisoner.

Even with her father’s life on the line, she couldn’t ignore her duty to her people. “Could you not use a dummy in place of a real prisoner?” she wondered.

Several heads nodded slowly but there was a sense of unease around this suggestion. “That is our fallback plan,” the man agreed. “But a live subject would give us more time. Where they’re holding your father, it will take time to reach the surface through the bowels of the castle, and then the wall and the kingdom’s border… If, for some reason, a guard looks in on his cell and thinks he’s dead because he’s not moving…”

“I see your point,” the blonde queen responded stoically. “But even if I was comfortable with using a prisoner in such a way, I don’t like the idea of giving George or Cora access to someone who might have knowledge that could be used against us.” As she paused and looked around at the group, she did a double-take as she paused on her wife’s face and found a new level of respect staring back at her. Quickly, she moved on, trying not to flush with pride. “Is there no way of creating the illusion that my father is still in his cell?”

Though there were other students of the arcane present, all eyes naturally fell to the ex-Evil Queen. Her sharp gaze lost focus on the occupants of her sitting room as her thoughts turned inward and she considered the options.

“It is possible,” she began at last, “to enchant, for instance ‘a dummy’, to create the illusion of movement. But, since my mother is involved, I suspect there may already be an enchantment on George’s castle to prevent magical interference. My wife is right to be cautious about sending a prisoner who already has reason to feel disenchanted with our leadership. We would be courting betrayal. However, I think one or two might be persuaded to come to an understanding with us.”

“An understanding?” Emma questioned with a frown.

“We could offer a reduced sentence or even acquittal in return for their role in helping to free your father,” Regina explained.

“Forgive me, your majesty,” another voice spoke up from next to the younger queen. “But what would stop them from turning on you once left to their own devices? Even if they wholeheartedly agreed, with no intention of going back on their word, bribery and torture loosen most men’s tongues. What’s to stop that from happening?”

Regina already had the answer to that question but felt herself hesitating. It had been so long since she’d done what she was considering that her fingers tingled with the memory and her palms started to sweat. To everyone’s consternation, she uttered, “I would take their heart.”

* * * * *

Emma watched her wife struggle to stand and move across the room after the meeting and itched to help, but she’d been shot down instantly the moment she moved in Regina’s direction. There had been many raised eyebrows and voiced concerns after the dark queen’s declaration, but more concerning than the suggestion was the eventual agreement to add it to the plan. It was a concern for Emma anyway.

She’d seen the uncertainty in Regina’s eyes and knew that reverting to the actions of the Evil Queen was playing heavily on the sorceress’ mind. It had seemed like the best option though. The best guarantee of a safe get away for their rescue team and King David, and the best chance of securing their own secrets. She kept her opinions to herself while they had company, but as she followed her wife haltingly into the dark queen’s bedroom, Emma felt words of worry on the tip of her tongue.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” she asked as soon as Regina sank onto her couch and heaved a long sigh of relief.

Dark eyes looked up at the blonde, a half smile tugging the corner of a mouth. “Sit down, dear,” Regina entreated, her hand patting the cushion next to her.

She watched the blonde for a moment before Emma sat beside her and, ignoring the aching in her arm, she reached out to brush a spiralling lock of hair behind an ear. She really hated how weak she was after their emergency transport but being in Emma’s immediate vicinity and touching her was enough to keep her awake for now. Now that the blonde’s power was active, a constant thrum of energy flowed through the young queen’s body and passed into Regina’s where their skin made contact.

“It’s been many years since I took someone’s heart, but I haven’t forgotten how to do it. It’s second nature to me now,” she explained calmly.

Seeing the exhaustion on the brunette’s face, Emma instinctively moved closer and pressed her fingers into her wife’s grasp. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You never apologise for anything. Did you know that? But I know you feel remorse for the Evil Queen’s atrocities.”

Rolling her eyes, Regina attempted to deflect the observation. Yes, she felt sorry for most of the victims of the things she’d done during her reign of terror, but she didn’t regret her journey through the dark and she wasn’t about to beat herself up over it either. “I’m a woman of action,” she responded simply.

“Don’t you think you should apologise?” the blonde pushed curiously. It wasn’t what she’d wanted to say, but the words were simply a product of her upbringing. If you did something wrong, you said sorry. Simple.

Regina apparently had a different take on life and waved off the suggestion. “ _Sorry_ will not fill bellies, mend injuries, or bring loved ones back from the dead. _Sorry_ is for those who think they should be forgiven.”

And that last statement said it all, giving Emma more insight into the workings of her spouse’s mind than she had ever before glimpsed. Sighing and deciding to change the subject, the blonde squeezed the hand in hers and brought her other hand up to cup Regina’s pensive features. “I appreciate everything you’re doing to help my parents; you know? I realise that it was concern for _our_ kingdom that gave you motivation, but regardless, I’m glad that I have you by my side; I would be lost without you. So please, when you’re channelling that dark magic, remember that I need you.” Three little words sat on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them back. It felt too far, too much, too scary.

Regina’s eyes lit up and she leaned into Emma’s touch. She felt soft lips falling gently against her own and sank into the blonde’s embrace. The dull throbbing in her head and the ache in her limbs began to drain away with the young queen’s kiss. Enough so that Regina felt her desires reawaken and lost the urge to collapse and sleep for a week. _She’s like an endless font of magical energy,_ she thought to herself. The longer they remained wrapped together, the less exhausted she felt and by the time they both pulled back for air, her fatigue was no more intense that what she might feel at the end of any long day.

“I’m sorry,” Emma whispered as she remembered her wife’s fragile state. Her brain told her to let go and help Regina into bed, but her heart kept her clinging to the dark queen, her hands beginning to wander over unexplored plains. “I should let you get some rest.”

“No!” Regina blurted in mild panic as she held on to stop the blonde from moving. She licked her lips and breathed to calm her racing heart. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay, but _this_ is making me feel so much better.” She struggled to put what she was experiencing into words, but when she finally managed to make Emma understand that their close proximity was healing her depleted energy faster than normal, the younger queen relaxed against her.

Emma grinned and pulled her wife into another long kiss. The tentative, unsure kisses from earlier in the day were evolving into caresses that stoked the dark queen’s desire and drew increasingly loud groans from her throat. Though lacking in experience, Emma was observant and resourceful, storing every delighted sound for further reference. Eventually, reluctantly, she pulled away again and found smouldering eyes with her own.

“We should take this to bed,” she suggested as a mixture of nerves and excitement filled her. “Even if it’s just to hold you.”

Regina’s heart leapt at the prospect, but while the spirit was willing, she could feel the pulling of her eyelids. Though Emma was apparently an excellent source of magical energy, her normal bodily functions still required rest and recuperation. “That sounds perfect,” she answered and moved her hands from where they’d tangled themselves in tumbling blonde locks, to entwine with another pair of hands. “I want to tell you that I intend on keeping you awake beneath the sheets, but I don’t think I could do it justice tonight, and we haven’t yet talked about where you want to take this.”

The last words were said with some hesitation and Emma chuckled at the absurdity of a situation where _she_ was surer about sex than the famed temptress. “Regina, on our wedding night, you told me that you wouldn’t touch me unless I asked for it, unless I desired it. Well, consider this a standing invitation.”

A beatific smile lit the dark queen’s features and she sank into the blonde once more to pull a brief kiss from her. “That’s good to know, because you are utterly irresistible and as soon as I have the energy, I’m going to ravish you until you lose all feeling in your legs.” She grinned smugly at the wide-eyed expression that captured the young queen and pushed herself from the couch.

With most of her magic restored, Regina managed to get herself ready for bed, never straying too far from her wife though. She crawled into bed with a groan of relief, but didn’t completely settle down until a body slipped in behind her and strong arms pulled them flush. She felt lips on the back of her neck and shuddered; at any other time, she would already be mapping the blonde’s body with her mouth and dragging out every delicious sound that Emma could possibly make, but they would have to wait. With any luck, by the time morning arrived, there would be nothing left to stop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;-D


	17. Ravished and Tortured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas update: Part 3 of 3
> 
> This is still T rated, but I hope it satisfies anyway...

As the midday meal time arrived and lapsed the following day without any sight of Queens Regina and Emma, gossip around the castle grounds hit a frenzy. Guards who had been with them during their confrontation with Cora Mills and saw how drained Regina was after returning to the castle, argued at first that both monarchs needed time to sleep off the effects of the day, but as the morning wore on, other evidence began to filter in.

In the laundry room, Queen Regina’s chamber maid complained, with all the energy of someone thoroughly enjoying themselves, that she couldn’t do her job if she couldn’t actually enter the room that she was supposed to be cleaning.

“Six times since dawn I’ve walked past her room,” she told a small crowd of servants as they half-heartedly toiled away. “I dare not try the door – the noises coming from the bed chamber are enough to make an ogre blush!”

“I thought you took their breakfast up earlier,” a voice rose from the steam. “Didn’t you have to enter the sitting room?”

“Aye,” the chamber maid agreed with mock irritation. “I challenge anyone to stay and clean in that room while our queen’s bringing her consort to ecstasy only a few feet away. I put the tray on the table and left sharpish.”

Several chuckles and crude comments flittered around as the women speculated on what the queens were doing to enjoy themselves so much, and inevitably, the conversation turned to their own husbands, wives and lovers. A young girl of fifteen reddened dangerously as abstract talk turned to more detailed descriptions, but with work to be done and nowhere to run, she tucked herself into a corner.

It occurred to her after a while that the older women were very invested in something that had to be a regular activity between a couple married for three years. “Is this not a common occurrence then?” she asked tentatively when there was a long enough lull between cackles.

“Child,” a wizened old woman with more hair than body mass turned to the teen with a huff. “Do you know nothing about your queens?” she all but scolded.

“I know they’ve been married for three years,” the teen answered sharply, her jaw set in defence. “Queen Regina was known as the Evil Queen many years ago and Queen Emma is Queen Snow’s daughter. Their marriage was intended to unite the kingdoms.”

More laughter flowed around the room, particularly with the older servants who could remember the years when the Evil Queen had ruled and a cloak of darkness had clung permanently to her. The teen blushed for an entirely different reason then and she went back to work, pretending not to listen as the discussion turned to the arrangement between two sworn enemies and the deal that had robbed a princess of her future.

Upstairs, sequestered within the royal bedroom, two spent bodies lay entwined, mused hair and sweaty skin both evidence of the strenuous activities they’d indulged in.

Emma held her wife close, her fingers playing through tousled strands that lay against her shoulder. “No one can say you’re not a woman of your word,” she whispered once she could find the presence of mind to speak.

The gentle, scratching pressure against her head combined with blissful contentment were enough to make Regina’s brain drowsy. “Hmm?” she replied absently.

“I can’t feel my legs,” the blonde clarified and smiled when she felt a chuckle rumble through her lover’s body.

They lay in companionable silence for some time after, both napping occasionally as they regained their senses. When Emma woke completely around four o’clock, she found warm brown eyes watching her closely and repositioned herself so that she could return the loving scrutiny.

In the half an hour that she’d been awake, Regina’s thoughts had tumbled over one another in a bid for dominance at the forefront of her mind. Her mother’s words, ever present after years of repeated lectures and harrowing lessons, always seemed to come out on top, but there was a noticeable difference in the power they had over her now. _Love is weakness, Regina. As queen, you need to take power. You don’t need love for that – it’s a waste of time._ Any time Cora had suggested that her daughter should make the people love her, Regina had known that it was just another form of manipulation to keep her in line. To give her just enough hope that she wouldn’t ruin her mother’s plans to rule. Though it had led her deeper into Rumpelstiltskin’s grasp, pushing her mother through that mirror had been one of the most satisfying things she had ever done.

Marrying Emma was next up on her list. Not because she had desired the princess, but because their marriage had put the final nail in the coffin of her vendetta against Snow White.

But even though she hadn’t gone looking for love and her wife was the unfortunate victim of her need to crush Snow, nothing topped her list of satisfying events like an entire morning and part of an afternoon making love to Emma. Forget her mother’s warped ideas about power and domination; the reformed queen would rather spend the rest of her life making Emma blissfully happy and prove the depth of her feelings at every available opportunity, than return to the miserable loneliness that had come with wielding fear and chasing power. The kind of misery that had brought her to a point where she could rip out her own father’s heart.

Despite the day’s events though, neither of them had chosen to make any declaration of love. She had assumed that Emma would be the first to crack, what with being young and still relatively untraumatized by life, but she hadn’t and that more than anything stabbed fear into the sorceress’ heart.

“You look especially lovely when you’re drooling on my pillow, did you know that?” Regina teased as the blonde stretched and rolled to face her.

Emma smiled through her blush. The tiny part of her brain that had been worried about her wife’s reaction after their intimacy relaxed at the teasing. “Just marking my territory,” she shot back, hoping that she sounded confident and carefree, not jittery and unsure about what they’d done and what it meant for their future.

Regina knew the young queen well enough to recognise when something was bothering her though and lifted up onto her elbow. “Emma, you don’t… regret this, do you?” The blonde’s widening eyes and immediate, choked denial went some way to assuaging her growing fear, but it didn’t answer that niggling concern. “What’s wrong then?”

Realising that her silence was doing more damage than any other potential fallout, Emma took a deep breath and blurted, “I love you.”

The dark queen’s heart exploded with happiness, leaving no room for worry or doubt in that moment. Those insidious thoughts would crawl back in later, but for now, she found that she couldn’t care less. “You were afraid to tell me that?” she asked after several delighted heartbeats.

“A bit?” the blonde admitted. “I heard what your mother told you in the forest.”

“Ah,” Regina breathed and glanced down at where her hand was playing with a heavy wrinkle in the sheet. A wrinkle that they’d made with very little effort. “She’s not entirely wrong, you know,” she thought aloud, her words pulling a frown down over her wife’s relaxed features. “Loving someone makes you vulnerable. It opens you up to pain. The kind of pain that can destroy a person. Make them weak…”

Emma entwined her hand around the one worrying the bedding and wriggled slightly closer. She had wanted to do this on their wedding night when she’d seen the devastation behind dark eyes. A warmth filled her chest as she realised then that she had become the one person who could reach out when Queen Regina needed comfort. Hoping that this gesture was enough, she waited for what she thought was the ‘but’ part of her wife’s explanation.

“But, she’s also very wrong.” Regina held green eyes for a long time as she searched for the courage she needed. “I love you,” she whispered finally, her voice catching on the words that had so long eluded her. “I love you, and I have never felt as strong as I do with you by my side. I’m not sure that I deserve this, but I will cherish it.”

“You deserve love. Of course, you do,” Emma replied and moved impossibly closer to wrap her arms around the smaller body. The brunette’s words about being vulnerable and open to pain were more evident behind brown eyes. There was trust there too and suddenly, the weight of their feelings hit her. “Everyone deserves love. It’s just that, not everyone is willing to let it in. Not everyone is brave enough,” she added and dropped her forehead against Regina’s.

* * * * *

They left Regina’s suite long enough to check on the messages that had been delivered that morning and to touch base with their staff. The dark queen ignored the curious looks, behaving as inscrutable and unrepentant as ever, but Emma blushed at every lingering, smirking gaze, particularly from her wife’s chamber maid, and shut herself in the office for the last few hours before supper.

As they sat at the dining table in the evening, hands automatically seeking a partner atop the wooden surface, the young queen forgot all about her embarrassment though. Parts of her body still ached from their exertions and she hoped that this was only the first of many occasions when an act as simple as sitting brought vivid memories of Regina’s hands and mouth bringing her to climax. She couldn’t care about scandalised servants when the most beautiful woman in the world was in love with her.

Both queens knew, that with a war looming at their kingdom’s border and a mad witch’s minions infiltrating their forests, their happy little bubble would soon have to pop. On the day their small rescue force was supposed to be wending their way to King David’s prison, the first news of enemy attacks reached their castle.

“Niall says that their attackers were more monster than man,” Emma commented from the note in her hand. “Do you think they’re the same creatures that attacked us?”

Regina had her hands braced against the huge, table-sized map, her keen gaze flicking over the new positions of their troops and her mother’s. She sighed. “Probably. Our people are good fighters, Emma, but many of them are, understandably, mostly interested in protecting their homes and families. An army of monsters is going to cut through morale faster than I had planned for.” She paused and wracked her brain to come up with a solution. “How is the casualty report?”

Emma grimaced. “Seventy-eight wounded. Ten of those critically. And a further twelve dead.”

The sorceress’ head dropped at the figures. She was experienced enough to know that, out of five hundred men, the report was actually rather glowing, but the days were gone when she could brush aside the loss as collateral damage and move on. “I need to take the fight to her.”

“ _We_ need to, you mean,” the blonde insisted. She could see the stubborn set of Regina’s jaw and knew that her wife was planning something self-destructive that would not put anyone else in danger. She watched the conflict in brown eyes and adopted a determined stance of her own. “Regina, do not cut me out. This is just as much my responsibility as yours.”

“I know, Emma,” the dark queen sighed in defeat. Much as she wanted to keep her wife as far away from her mother as possible, she couldn’t order the blonde to stay home or wrap her up in a bubble. She looked up to meet the younger queen’s gaze. “Can you blame me for wanting to protect you though?” She didn’t wait for a reply before adding, “ _We_ need to take this fight to my mother and settle things before she can dig her claws in.”

Mollified, Emma nodded and approached the opposite side of the map. “It will take all day to travel to Queen’s Rest. Is it likely that she’s trying to draw us there, assuming that we’ll want to protect our people? Can we travel to the northern border and lure her there somehow instead? At least our soldiers will not have to face her head on.”

“It’s unlikely she will be in the middle of the fighting anyway. She only showed her face to us because she wanted to see if I was prepared to join her.” Regina threw a half smile at the blonde as she replayed the incident in her mind. “She hadn’t counted on you being able to resist her attempt to take your heart.”

Emma rubbed at the area where Cora’s hand had penetrated through her chest. “What about my magic?” she asked as a thought occurred to her. “Will I be able to use it against her? I can’t believe I’ve never thought to ask you how you wield magic.”

“You are powerful, Emma, but still a novice. Not to bruise your ego too much, but it is unlikely that you would pose too much of a threat to her if you were forced into a confrontation.” Seeing the expectant expression that stared back at her, she huffed. “Magic is emotion. My magic is grounded in darkness, in hate and anger, because that is how I was taught.”

“There’s a whole spectrum of other emotions available though, isn’t there?” the blonde teased.

“Yes,” Regina replied behind a heavy eye-roll. “The Dark One was my tutor, unfortunately. I suspect the only reason he was interested in me at all was to cast his dark curse, but your mother’s meddling put a stop to that, so his efforts were ultimately wasted.”

“But he did disappear, didn’t he? Snow said that he modified the curse so that it didn’t have to be so powerful.”

Those days seemed so long ago that the sorceress rarely thought about them anymore. It took a moment to conjure the memory of that fateful meeting with Snow, Charming and the Dark One, and the hour-long ride she’d taken while considering the deal. “Yes. Your mother sacrificed your heart… to me.” Slowly, she looked up and found warm, green eyes fixed on her. It was hard to regret something that had brought them both so much joy and she knew that Emma considered herself to be happy, but she did occasionally wonder whether the blonde would have been happier choosing her own destiny. “I didn’t ever imagine that the bargain we struck would bring me so much joy. I honestly just thought that I would be satisfied with having my revenge and that would be the end of it.”

“Well, I know my mother is not known for her terribly clever decisions, but that was definitely one of her better ones,” Emma said as she sidled closer to her wife and pulled the brunette into a loose embrace. “My heart may have been her sacrifice, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s still mine to give, and I give it to you.”

The replies that came to mind were too sickly sweet even in her head for Regina to say out loud, but she did capture Emma’s lips with her own and held them as willing hostages for several pleasurable minutes before parting with a soft ‘I love you’.

“So, emotion…” the blonde began again. “I’m not sure that I have it in me to hate so strongly. Does any emotion work?”

The brunette leant one hand against the table while the other lingered on Emma’s hip. “In theory, I suppose. Though the more powerful the spell, the stronger the emotion must be. Most emotions are fleeting; they’re too tenuous to hold on to – it has to be something that exists at your core at all times. It drives your desires, fills your every waking hour and feeds your soul. As a product of true love, I imagine _that_ is where you will find your source.”

Emma’s eyes lingered on her wife’s face as she concentrated on that warm feeling in her chest – the one that seemed to pull her thoughts ever in the dark queen’s direction; the one that wanted to protect her from harm and see her smile as much as possible. Regina’s smile – from the smallest of amused smirks to the rarest and most delighted grins – those were the moments that the blonde prized and the ones that gripped her heart with addictive agony, like she was going to burst with happiness. Power tingled beneath her skin the more she concentrated on her love for her spouse and she locked onto brown eyes with determination.

“So, once I have my source, do I just point and shoot?” she wondered.

“Not quite,” Regina answered with another eye-roll. She could feel Emma’s magic coming off the blonde’s body in waves. That much power was going to be difficult to control and she had no desire to have to rebuild their home because her new apprentice had accidentally blown it up. “This is what you want then? To learn magic?”

Emma thought about it for a long moment, trying to find the right words to explain what she was thinking. “Well, I already have magic, right? So, I’ll be learning to use and control it. Like learning how to walk or talk.”

The dark queen looked impressed as the blonde finished. “That is a very apt analogy actually. It will be very much like learning to use a muscle that you didn’t even know you had.” She glanced over the map, thought about the best location to hone the young queen’s power and came to a decision. “If you are serious about this, we will practise every day – before sunrise, when you are tired and hungry – in the middle of the day, when you’re busy and stressed – and after supper, when you are replete and want nothing more than to laze around in front of a warm fire.” She watched as Emma’s expression turned from confident to apprehensive and smiled to herself. “I will not tolerate whining or complaints. If you have any doubts about your ability to see this through, then now is your opportunity to reconsider. I will not think any less of you for backing out.”

Despite a much less enthusiastic mien, the young queen stood tall and nodded. She had no idea what she was letting herself in for.

* * * * *

They started, as Regina had warned, before sunrise the next day. Tired, not only from a hard day’s work on policies and troop movements but from a night of enthusiastic love-making, Emma dragged herself reluctantly from bed and followed the brunette to a small clearing in the woods.

By the end of the first hour, she wanted to shout at her wife, maybe even shake her a bit. By the end of the first day, she wanted to kill her. Regina made magic look so easy; she flicked her hand and a fireball appeared, she waved her arms and transported herself vast distances, but Emma couldn’t seem to grasp the art at all.

At the end of a week, the dark sorceress was impressed with her wife’s progress, but Emma had reached the limit of her mental endurance and, before the end of the first session that day, knelt in a heap on the forest floor, sobbing.

Regina felt the same pang of guilt that she’d felt all week as she pushed and pushed the young woman to reach deeper, to react quicker, to hold her spells for longer. In ordinary times, without war and her mother breathing down their necks, she would have given in to Emma’s pleading for a rest or relented to her shouts of protest over her treatment, but these were not ordinary times. They didn’t have the luxury of time and if her wife was serious about using her powers, then she needed to learn fast.

Still, there came a point when such treatment produced diminishing returns and she could see from the curled position of the blonde’s body that a little TLC was needed to restore some of that earlier bravado. With a wave of her hand, she transported them both back to her bedroom in the castle and left for a moment to order a bath to be drawn. On her return, she gently encouraged Emma from the floor and out of her clothes. She pulled her comfiest robe around hunched shoulders and guided them both to the couch, where she wrapped her arms around the young queen’s body and held her until the last of her tears subsided.

Regina didn’t start trying to explain herself until Emma was in the bath and the steam and scented oils were working their own magic, finally relaxing the blonde. She sat on a stool close by and let her fingers linger in the water where an arm floated. “I’m sorry,” she said at length. “I tried to warn you.”

Emma’s voice was hoarse when she found it. She was too tired to marvel at the rare admission of guilt and answered snappishly, “You didn’t warn me that you were going to turn into a sadistic monster,” and then immediately regretted it when dark eyes tightened and Regina flinched. She bit back an apology though. The week had been torturing and she felt justified in being angry.

Regina’s eyes closed and she swallowed back the pain. Though the words hurt and she knew she deserved them, it was the price she had to pay to keep her wife safe. It had been days since they’d shared more than the most perfunctory kiss and though Emma continued to crawl into her bed at night, the distance between their bodies had widened. She hated herself even while she stuck to her convictions, but it was perhaps time to explain her process and re-establish their bond – before it was too late.

“Emma, I know I’ve been awful this week,” she began softly. “I know I have pushed and bullied you, seemingly past the point of reason. I have demanded things that you couldn’t possibly accomplish yet, but there is method in my madness, I assure you.” When all she received was an unconvinced stare, she carried on, “This week has not really been about teaching you to use your magic,” she confessed.

“What the hell has it been about then!?” Emma yelled as anger and humiliation grabbed her. “What was the point of you torturing me!?”

Regina winced but didn’t shy away from the blonde’s ire. “This week has been about teaching you to know your limits, and I know you have hated every minute of it, have hated _me_ , but I have to tell you that I have been very impressed with what you’ve achieved so far.” At the sound of a scoff and a heavy eye-roll, she reined in her enthusiasm slightly. “That’s little consolation to you right now, I know, but you should be proud.”

An awkward silence descended on them for several minutes while the brunette gave her wife time to mull over her words. Eventually a long, frustrated sigh escaped pursed lips and the apprentice relented.

“Tell me more,” Emma demanded with a little less antagonism. “I think the worst thing about this week has been this growing distance between us; I need to know what you’re thinking, Regina, so I can understand why the woman I love is trying to kill me.”

There was a hint of humour behind green eyes but the confusion and hurt there dissuaded the older queen from finding the comment funny. “We are at war, Emma. Not only that, but we are at war with a woman who truly is sadistic.” She knew this fact better than anyone and had to take a moment to push old memories of her mother far back into her mind. “She will not give you time to recover when you are tired. She will not care if you are upset or if you have had enough. She will find and exploit every weakness you have, and if she doesn’t kill you outright, she will hurt you in ways that will make this week seem like a vacation in paradise.” She took a breath when she heard a crack in her voice. It was a weakness she couldn’t allow and yet, since falling for Emma, it was something that she simply had to accept. “Control of your emotions is not something that I can teach you with a book or spells. It is not something that you can practise in such a short time; it takes years to master if you want to learn without the pain and tears. You have to fail many times before experience sets in.”

“So… tough love?”

“I’m afraid so,” the dark queen answered. “I have not enjoyed it either, and you’re right, the worst part is the distance between us… feeling you pull away. All I can say in my defence is that I need you to understand that battles aren’t won through magic and valour alone.” She stopped short of commenting on the Charming blood-line and their insistence on fighting even when the odds were stacked against them, but it was a close thing.

Emma’s expression was thoughtful through another long silence. Her eyes caught sight of the hand that twitched on the side of the bath and she reached for it, suddenly needing to put the dark queen out of her misery. “I understand that you thought it was necessary for my safety, but in future, can we please talk about these things in a little more depth before you decide to go crazy?”

Regina wanted to argue that by talking about it in depth, she would lessen the effects and render the whole exercise pointless, but she held her tongue. That would be a discussion for another day, when emotions were not so raw. Instead, she nodded her agreement. “I can do that. In return, I need you not to dismiss this week as a bad experiment. I know the temptation to bury those uncomfortable truths,” she added as a film of reluctance fell over green eyes. “You are not as adept as you assumed you would be and you will not be able to learn enough magic in the next few weeks to defeat my mother and save the kingdoms…

“But you can learn enough to slow her down – to help you escape to fight another day. Strategy and tactics will serve you better than brute force.”

“You’ve made your point,” Emma responded sullenly. Now that her anger had fizzled out, she was left with disappointment, embarrassment and a bone-deep weariness. All she really wanted to do right then was sleep.

The edge of defiance in the blonde’s tone set Regina’s teeth on edge but she managed to temper the urge to start bullying compliance out of the young queen again. In light of the seriousness of the situation, she couldn’t let Emma think that her attitude was ok though and she reached out to grasp a proud jaw, much like she had done on their wedding night when she’d warned her about keeping their secret. While her touch was firm though, her eyes were soft and full love. “I will be most displeased if you get yourself killed because of your bull-headed belief that you should be able to save everyone.” She held on gently until she got a nod of understanding and then, because she couldn’t wait any longer and the need had been burning in her for days, she leant in and kissed her wife hard, releasing all of her own pent-up frustrations and concerns.

Despite how much she really wanted to just fall into bed with Emma and spend the day there, she instructed her apprentice to ponder on what she’d learned that week and to write it all down so they could discuss it _“in depth, as requested”._ She busied herself in their office, completing tasks that she’d neglected during her teaching.

More than usual, she found it difficult to keep her mind on each task, but the pile of letters from the morning mail steadily dwindled until she neared the bottom and one in particular jumped out at her. To a casual glance, it appeared just as innocuous as all of the others, but the seal of a star on the back told her otherwise and she ripped it open with eager hands.

_Queen Regina and Queen Emma,_

_Your shipment has been rerouted due to hostile activity on route. Be assured that the delay will be as brief as we can manage and that our priority is to ensure the protection of your merchandise._

_We hope this letter finds you well, your majesties._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Star Enterprises_

Regina sighed and leaned back in her chair. She thought about the contents of the letter and rubbed a hand over her eyes. David was safe for now, but it would take time before Astra and her team could deliver him to the castle. Emma’s missing father had caused the young queen extra stress on top of her rigorous magical training, so the news was very welcome, if not exactly what they had both hoped for. Still, they had known that rescuing the king from George’s dungeons would not be easy and in this case, the delivery of Prince Charming to safety was something they could not afford to rush. He was better off arriving late than never at all.

The dark queen debated the logic of rushing off to give her wife the news verses finishing her work. Whether it was a lingering sense of guilt for how she’d treated Emma that week, or simply a need to see the blonde after only a few hours apart, she soon decided that there was no time like the present and went in search of her.

“May I come in?” she asked as she pushed open the door to her wife’s bedroom and peeked inside. Emma was sat on the bed, her legs crossed and a frown on her face as she stared down at the scribblings in the notebook in front of her.

Green eyes landed on Regina with relief. “Yeah, please.” Now that she was more relaxed about her training and was once again confident that her relationship with her wife was not in crisis, she met the visitor with a smile and moved her studies out of the way to make room on the bed. “What have you got there?” she asked when she spotted the paper in the brunette’s hand.

“It’s about your father,” Regina replied and when the blonde’s face darkened with anxiety, she hastened to add, “he has been given temporary accommodation while his rescuers wait for a less risky time to travel.”

Emma’s eyes scanned the short missive. After a thoughtful pause, she looked up into a concerned gaze and asked, “Is that likely to happen? The roads are only getting more dangerous as time passes, not less.”

“They would not be travelling via the main highway in any case, dear. This just means that the circuitous route they had planned to take has been compromised, so they need to re-plan.” Regina reached for her wife’s hand and squeezed it. “He is safe, Emma. Even if it takes longer than we had hoped, I am confident that Astra and her team will find a way through to us. With your father.” She was relatively new to comforting people but something about the blonde always made her want to get up close and invade her personal space. Cuddling was definitely not a skill she thought she might have in her repertoire one day.

“Thanks. Have you finished for the day?” she wondered hopefully. She’d had enough of examining her actions and feelings.

“Nearly,” Regina confessed and then coloured slightly as she added, “I brought this to you almost as soon as I read it.”

This delighted Emma more than the kiss they’d shared earlier while she was in the bath. Interrupting her work for frivolous means was not something that Queen Regina was in the habit of entertaining, but the fact that she thought to change her habits for Emma’s peace of mind went a long way towards healing the damage done during the week. “Thank you,” she said and pulled eager lips against her own. “I appreciate it. If you’re happy that I’ve done enough soul searching for today, I can help you finish off any last tasks and then maybe we can have an early night?” The implication was clear in her tone and in the way her eyes lingered on her wife’s lips. “I’ve missed you,” she added in a whisper.

Regina snatched the olive branch with both hands. She led Emma to their office and sent written requests to the kitchen, saving a few precious minutes of walking. She breezed through the last few letters and tried her best to ignore the amused grin that shone at her from the opposite side of the table. Later, when she pulled her wife into her private sitting room and pinned her against the door, she took her time to kiss all trace of smugness from the blonde’s expression.

When they finally came back up for air and sustenance, they stayed entwined on the couch where they’d fallen, a quilted throw covering their otherwise naked bodies. Regina gazed around the room as she absentmindedly threaded her fingers through the blonde curls that lay against her chest. Her personal suite was slowly becoming more and more of a shared space, with Emma’s belongings migrating from the blonde’s room one item at a time to take up residence in the sorceress’ inner sanctum. Books, the odd jacket, jewellery that could only have been picked out by an insanely chipper person with a bird obsession, trinkets bought from every village they passed through (with the excuse that each purchase was helping the economy), a hair brush and a dozen other random objects that had found their way into drawers, cupboards and pockets.

The space that had been her sanctuary for so many years was no longer her own.

She couldn’t be happier about that fact if she tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoys today the best they can. If you live with loved ones and it's safe to hug them, do it. If you're spending another day alone, hug yourself. Be kind to yourselves and others. Happy Holidays. xxx


	18. Schism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the comments and kudos. We're well over half way through this story now. I think it's time to shake things up a little bit...

Emma’s legs couldn’t carry her fast enough through the castle when she heard the news she’d been praying for. She was still pulling on items of clothing as she descended the stairs to the ground floor, her hair damp from the bath, but none of that mattered because he was here at last; her father had finally made it passed enemy lines to the safety of her home.

Regina caught the tail end of her wife’s mad dash just as the blonde shot out from the last stairwell. Normally, she would have something to say about being presentable in front of their subjects, but in light of how Emma must be feeling at that moment, she simply waved a hand over the woman’s figure and fixed the last of her clothing while drying her hair and spinning it into a plait. She welcomed a kiss on the cheek as a reward and followed her out into the courtyard, where the rescue team and their cargo had just arrived.

The dark queen watched with pride, joy and something bittersweet as Emma leaped down the steps to envelope Prince Charming in a crushing hug. She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself in comfort as her heart ached for her own father. Henry would have welcomed David in with more warmth than Regina was capable of conjuring for Snow White’s true love. He would be greeting their fellow monarch like family, engaging him in conversation about his adventures and thanking the rescuers for their services.

That last part actually she could do, she realised with relief. Leaving Emma to deal with her father, Regina found red hair in the gathering crowd and set off with purpose. “Astra,” she greeted the woman and held out a hand to pull her closer, away from the mass of bodies.

“Your majesty,” the redhead replied and smiled as she breathed a sigh of relief. “We made it.”

“Indeed, you did,” the queen smiled back. “Well done. This has definitely earned you a bonus.” She half expected a protest in response to that and held up a hand pre-emptively. “I will not hear any arguments on the matter. This mission’s success was of the utmost importance and you have succeeded, despite the odds.”

Astra sighed again, though this time it was exasperated. “Perhaps we should wait to see how much this helps our cause before you knight me,” she joked.

Regina’s eyebrow rose at the tone of familiarity which usually came from the redhead’s mother. “Regardless of the effect Charming’s presence here has on the war, his rescue has already helped immensely,” she told the spy and then gestured over to where Queen Emma beamed through her tears of happiness.

“She seems overjoyed to have her father back,” Astra commented on the scene. “That must be very gratifying for you.”

Feigning disinterest, the sorceress inspected her nails. “I will just be glad that the moping is finally over.” She motioned with her head towards the castle and led the other woman into her home, where the bustle of people was significantly calmer.

Astra followed obediently until they were in a familiar meeting room that was currently unoccupied. “However have you coped?” she teased, hoping the jovial vibe she was picking up would not lead her astray.

The dark queen chuckled and took her usual seat. “Food is a great distraction.”

She would only joke about her wife this way with one other person and it occurred to her then that her life had been lacking just as much in platonic affection as it had maternal and romantic. She could count her close friends on one hand. She wasn’t sure what had attracted her to Astra’s company that she had not found in others, but she was grateful for it.

“Hmm, among other things?” the spy wondered aloud. She had heard the rumours coming from the castle. Gossip travelled faster than the wind, particularly when it included royalty, and the news on everyone’s tongue was centred firmly on the queens’ bed chamber.

“What have you heard?”

“Well, it _has_ been many years since the kingdom had a royal birth to celebrate.”

That was not the answer Regina had expected and she sat back with a deep sigh. The thought of children had not crossed her mind in a while. It had been a passing consideration when she and Emma were getting married and the idea had appealed to the part of her that just didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life, but her motivation then had been entirely selfish. She thought about what she’d said to her mother about raising her children with love. _That’s_ what she had with Emma and suddenly, she wanted nothing more than for their love to grow into a family.

“First things first,” she finally replied and steered them back to talk about the rescue and the developing situation with the war.

* * * * *

David looked round in awe as Emma led him through the entrance hall and straight to the guest suite, which had been prepared for his arrival. Was it his imagination or was the castle brighter? It was odd to think that the feel of a building could change its personality. There was no obvious difference in the décor and the layout was exactly the same, but there was still something less oppressive about the whole place.

Emma’s hand continued to grip his arm as if she was worried that he might disappear if she let go. He led her to a small sitting area and pulled her into his arms.

Over the next little while, the young queen could do nothing to stop the torrent of tears that fell. She’d been so busy lately that she hadn’t had chance to think long and hard over her father’s capture and subsequent rescue. She had also not wanted to waste her energy on tears, but now that he was right in front of her, she felt like a little girl again; a child who had reached the limit of their ability to cope with the harsh realities of life.

She wasn’t aware that she’d fallen asleep until a knock at the door jarred her awake. “Yes?” she asked when she peeked out into the corridor and found one of the kitchen maids there.

“Beg your pardon, your majesty. Queen Regina wants to know if you and King David will be joining her for supper?”

“It is that time already?” she wondered aloud.

“Almost, your majesty. We will begin laying the table in half an hour.”

Emma glanced behind her to throw a questioning look at her father, who nodded back. “Yes, we will join her shortly. Thank you.” She returned to the sitting area, choosing a chair opposite her father this time. “I can’t believe I fell asleep. You don’t have time to bathe and change now,” she lamented.

“I have little to wear other than disguises anyhow,” Charming joked.

“Oh! We thought as much, so we stocked your closet,” Emma told him excitedly. As if she couldn’t wait for him to investigate for himself, she jumped to her feet and dragged him into the bedroom area.

“Well,” he beamed, his happy response mostly due to his daughter’s unbridled enthusiasm. There were so many things on his mind; so many questions and concerns about his wife and their kingdom, but he knew that there was nothing he could do tonight, even if he did have answers. He’d been promised a full briefing in the morning and had to be content with that. “This is a lovely surprise. At the very least, I can have a wash and throw on a new shirt.”

Returning the smile, Emma kissed his cheek and left him to his own devices for a few minutes while she went to see to her own appearance. Normally, she wasn’t too fussy if it was just her and Regina – choosing trousers and a loose shirt most of the time (it was amusing to watch Regina’s eyes try not to linger on her cleavage), but her father’s arrival denoted a special occasion and she wanted to make the most of it. She rummaged through her side of Regina’s wardrobe and found a dress that was not only one of her wife’s favourites on her, but which she could don without the need for assistance.

“That’s not to say I won’t need help removing it later,” she chuckled to herself, already anticipating the dark queen’s hands pushing the material from her shoulders.

Still in a semi-daydream as she stepped from the room a few minutes later, it took her a moment to understand why her father was standing in the corridor outside her room and staring at her with a somewhat confused expression. When she realised that he was trying to figure out her reason for being in Regina’s room, she blushed.

“Is this not your room?” he asked and gestured to the door closest to his own suite.

“It is,” Emma replied shyly. “But I haven’t slept in there for a while.” She watched a myriad of emotions cross his expression and bit her lip. “Are you disappointed with me?”

The uncertainty and fear in her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “No, of course not!” he blurted and then coughed to clear his throat. “I suppose I’m just surprised… Are you happy, Emma?”

Her eyes lit up like emeralds and instantly glazed over with the dreamy kind of look that only the hopelessly in love could manage. “Very,” she answered reverently. “She completes me.”

It was that look that stayed with Charming all through supper. He sat next to his daughter, who sat at her wife’s right hand, and tried to gage whether his former enemy returned Emma’s obvious affection. Regina gave little away in her expression and manners, but several times he thought he caught tenderness and light in her gaze when she spoke to her spouse and forgot her surroundings for a moment. _Snow is not going to believe this,_ he thought when he was at last convinced of the sorceress’ feelings.

Regina chaffed under the scrutiny, but didn’t challenge it. She knew that he had found out about her and Emma somehow. Either the same rumours that had reached Astra’s ears had found him too, or else Emma had spilled the beans herself. Though part of her hoped that her wife had admitted it proudly, ultimately, it didn’t matter. Charming was one of the last people she wanted to answer to, but since she had tried to kill his wife several times, she supposed she could understand why he might be sceptical of her intentions. At some point, he was probably going to insist that they talk about it and she really wished that she could torture him… just a little bit.

* * * * *

“No!” Emma laughed as she sat in front of Regina’s vanity mirror the next morning and enjoyed the feel of her wife braiding her hair, sans magic.

The dark queen sighed. “It’s just been so long and I miss the stupid look on his face when he’s trying to think of ways to kill me.”

The blonde shook her head. “You’re so bad.”

Regina grinned to herself, tied off the braid with a flick of her wrist and leant down to whisper into the shell of an ear, “I seem to recall _someone_ saying that I was very, _very_ good.”

Emma shivered and tried desperately not to tilt her head in silent invitation. “Is this a taste of what I’ll have to put up with today?” she speculated breathlessly.

“I have to find ways to entertain myself,” the brunette shrugged, like she couldn’t possibly be found at fault.

Rising from her chair, Emma turned and stepped naturally into her wife’s smaller frame. “Just try not to go so far that he’ll never want to look at me again.”

Regina pretended to think as she made a physical inspection of her lover’s outfit and hummed with approval. _I do like these loose shirts._ “I might be able to manage that. But you have given me so much new material to work with this week.”

Emma blushed. “I was trying to make up for lost time,” she whimpered, both at the feel of her wife’s hands on her and the memory of their recent bedroom adventures.

“I think the entire castle knows that by now,” Regina smirked and kissed the younger queen before she could respond. “Much as I would love to see what you come up with next, dear, duty calls.”

Reluctantly, they parted and made their way to the conference room where they’d asked David and every other relevant person to meet them. They found their reserved chairs beside each other on one side of the table and sat. As a visiting royal, Charming had usurped one of the state advisor’s seats and had positioned himself beside his daughter. At his request, Red sat on his left side and from there, the rest of Regina and Emma’s advisors, military leaders and land owners filled out the other seats. Meetings like this were becoming increasingly risky and this would probably be the last one before the winter set in.

With the nights getting longer and frosty mornings increasing, it seemed ever more likely that the first snowfall would come before they had chance to stop Cora and rescue Snow’s kingdom. Nobody wanted the war to drag on for so long; Snow’s people were in poor condition already and would suffer greatly if they had to endure the winter months without better provisions, but since Cora appeared to have hidden herself away since her attack on her daughter and daughter-in-law, a quick end to the conflict seemed unlikely.

It was with a heavy heart that Emma relayed these assumptions to the room. “In light of this, we need to discuss what measures we can take to help the people trapped under Cora’s control.”

“Regarding the successful crossing of refugees, we have had some promising reports from our patrols,” Regina continued seamlessly. “Defences against my mother’s ‘hounds’ are coming along also; casualties are down and morale is up. We need to capitalise on these victories while they are fresh in everyone’s mind.”

“Quarters are growing tight,” said the young woman beside Red. She had a hard face which was covered liberally with the scarred remnants of some childhood disease, offering a scary appearance, but her confident voice carried notes of kindness and patience. She had taken over as the head of her family’s estate after Queen Regina exiled her conniving older cousin. Since her parents had mostly hidden her away from society, she had never expected to be in any position of power or influence, but the queen had spoken to her at length and eventually insisted on her trying it out. She was now more of an outcast than ever from her family, but the people seemed grateful for her leadership and she found that she couldn’t abandon them, even on the days when she really wanted to. “Our people are very willing to house our guests, especially given the crown’s support, but I doubt their generosity will last forever. Before long, they will want their homes back.”

“That’s to be expected,” Regina responded with a short nod. “The longer this drags on, the less patient they will be. But I think, if we can give them a definite timeline for when they can expect to have their homes back, they will be more amenable.”

David, who’d stayed quiet as he watched the proceedings and marvelled at the efficacy of Regina and Emma’s cabinet, decided that it was time he threw in his two cents. “These are my people,” he reminded them firmly, drawing their eyes to him. He noted an expression of relief and gratitude on his daughter’s face and felt a stab of guilt as he realised that she’d had this burden on her shoulders for too many years. “I will do whatever I can to provide shelter for them once winter passes.”

Regina felt her teeth clench at the man’s sanctimonious tone. _Does he think we’ve been twiddling our thumbs, waiting for him to arrive and save the day?_ She cleared her throat and addressed the ex-shepherd. “That’s admirable, Charming. But your kingdom is bankrupt and your people are broken. In the middle of a war, resources will be difficult to come by. How do you suggest we rectify that?” She felt her wife twitch with the desire to defend her father and placed a calming hand on the blonde’s knee. Her ‘tough love’ approach was tried and tested; her mother’s lessons had made an impact and though it had been difficult to distinguish the difference between cruelty for the sake of it and the necessity of learning from one’s own mistakes, she was certain that Snow’s true love didn’t need to be placated. Besides, she wasn’t going to waste an opportunity to bring him down from his lofty ledge.

Charming had been so used to seeing his wife demand funds to be released for this reason or that, he’d never really learned how the economy actually worked. He knew now that the villagers had suffered in poverty because he and Snow had trusted the wrong people to manage their business. He knew that corruption had sucked the people dry. But he hadn’t fully comprehended what that meant for the crown’s treasury. He thought back to when Emma had told them that they were in a financial crisis.

The last few years under Cora’s thrall still felt like a dream that he woke from for only the briefest periods. In his mind, very little time had passed since Emma’s wedding and hearing the reminder of his failures again was like a punch to the gut.

David deflated inside but managed to maintain a hard, outer shell. “I understand your point, but I have sat idly and ignorantly by while people suffered and it’s past time that stopped. I will be a part of any effort to ease their situation, even if I have to build each of them a home with my own two hands.”

“Fine. When the time comes, you will head up the relocation of refugees.” Regina said, her tone unimpressed. She turned to a man across the table. “Michel, see to it that King David has contact with the right people.”

David bit his tongue to prevent him from arguing and offered a terse ‘thank you’ instead.

“I have hand-picked the best people, but do not think for a minute that you can sit back and trust that everything will unfold nicely without any input from you. That’s not how we do things here,” Regina tossed at the ex-shepherd, not even trying to hide the insult in her words.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, father,” Emma interjected forcefully, cutting off any other abuse that her wife had buzzing around in her mind. “We are in this _together_ ,” she emphasised pointedly, “and as long as we remember that, we’ll make headway.”

Red sat awkwardly beside her once-best friend’s husband and felt conflicted. She understood why Emma would jump to her father’s defence, but she couldn’t help the appreciation she felt for the dark queen’s stern approach. She’d seen first-hand what Snow and Charming’s naïve neglect had done to their kingdom and had wanted to slap some sense into them years ago. Though their crimes were borne out of ignorance and not malice, she was not the only one who blamed them for their lack of insight into their own affairs.

After Emma’s curtailing of her wife’s meanspirited comments, the conversation turned to the rebels and Red’s updates.

“They won’t say it, but they’re impressed by the number of people we’ve managed to move across the border so far,” Red began, cutting across the tension in the room. “They still don’t fully trust your intentions, but they’re willing to work together, for now.” She rolled out a map that she kept in the inner pocket of her cloak and ran a finger along the border where her fellow rebels had spread themselves. “A small group took back another hectare of land yesterday and they’re advancing again at the end of the week.”

“Hmm,” Regina made a non-comital noise. “Expansion and occupation are good, but you might want to warn them not to go too fast. It advances nothing if there is not enough man-power and equipment to hold the land when it’s won; it’s just a waste of resources.”

“Noted,” Red responded and tucked the map back into her pocket. “They want to know how you plan to keep Cora at bay during the winter and when you plan on sending forces to attack Snow’s castle.”

Charming made a noise of startled protest, which covered up a whimper from Emma, and sat up straighter in his chair. “Are you not looking for Snow?” he blurted with increasing concern. He glanced at his daughter, expecting her to give him some sort of reassurance.

Emma struggled to hold her father’s gaze when his eyes so desperately wanted her to tell him good news about his wife. “Our efforts have had to focus mostly on the villagers’ safety, on both sides of the border.” She paused to absorb his disappointment and then the resigned acceptance that fell over his features.

“Yes, I suppose there’s little else that can be done at the moment,” he muttered

Regina swallowed the derisive comment that lingered on her tongue and tried to find some sympathy. If not for him, then for his daughter. “When the final plans are formulated to retake your home, we will make finding Snow and securing her safety a priority,” she told him. Before he could comment, she turned her attention to the stack of papers in her hands. “We have finally secured the south-east passage and are once again receiving wagons from the coast, so supplies should run more smoothly for a while.” She passed her gaze over the room and waited until she had everyone’s undivided attention before continuing, “Make no mistake though, my mother will not hesitate to act if we let our guard down at any point. It is up to us to ensure that patrols are vigilant and retaliation is swift.”

On that note, the meeting delved into specific areas of the kingdom, reanalysing the weak spots and reaffirming their contingencies for when their defences were tested. Emma made her opinions known when she felt the need and tried to curb any of her wife’s verbal attacks on her father, but otherwise, she let the dark queen have the floor, knowing that military strategy was her forte.

* * * * *

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Emma complained once the rest of their guests had vacated the meeting room, leaving her and Regina alone.

“Do what?” the dark queen asked, though she had an inkling. She hadn’t pulled many punches with Charming and it had made Emma more than a little twitchy during the meeting.

“You know what! You deliberately tried to humiliate my father when all he was doing was trying to offer to help.” She paused, waiting for a response that didn’t seem forthcoming. “Do you deny it?” she demanded, standing with her arms crossed as she watched the older queen busy herself around the room.

With a sigh, Regina dropped the stack of papers she was putting in order and faced her wife. “No, Emma, I do not deny it. Your parents have driven their kingdom into the ground, not entirely by themselves I’ll grant you, but enough that they need to know it. Since Snow isn’t here, your father must bear the brunt of that.”

“He does know it. You don’t have to hammer it home for him. Especially in front of our most influential subjects. I thought when we were talking earlier, you were joking about getting a rise out of him.” She stared the brunette down. “You could have at least waiting until we were alone, but you just couldn’t resist digging the knife in a little deeper, could you? Is that still who you are? Is it not enough that they gave their daughter for your revenge?”

“You have not had any complaints about that fact,” Regina shot back, feeling hurt by the accusations and the implication that their marriage wasn’t the happy situation that she’d come to see it as.

Emma threw her hands in the air. “That doesn’t diminish their sacrifice!” She could feel the waves of anger, confusion and doubt flowing across the small divide they’d created and tried to calm her own breathing. She stepped into her wife’s personal space and reached inside for the no-nonsense tone she’d learned to wield. “I love you and I wouldn’t change what we have, but I will not stand idly by while you continue to punish my parents for whatever grudge you still carry. It is not your place to judge them for their poor leadership skills.” With those words ringing in the silence, she grabbed her own stack of paperwork and left the brunette to her thoughts.

Regina froze for a moment as she absorbed Emma’s wounded words. While she’d had Charming in her sights, she had pushed aside her concern for her wife’s feelings, but now that anger and bitterness were not blinding her thoughts, she began to realise how petty her behaviour looked on the outside. _Abigail was right,_ her inner voice whispered as it recalled her friend’s oft repeated accusation. No matter how many times she tried to tell herself that she’d let go of the past, she still couldn’t seem to control her tongue when Snow was even remotely involved.

All of the flirtatious teasing from earlier had been tainted by her insistence on treating Charming like a child and now she knew she would have to work twice as hard to get back into Emma’s good graces. To do _that,_ she might have to resort to actually being nice to Snow’s prince, when she might have been able to get away with a surly distance if she’d just been able to control herself.

Guilt began to creep into her thoughts and pull tight at her stomach, until she could stand it no longer and forced it back into its box. _Snow and Charming brought this on themselves,_ she reminded herself. _Who is going to hold them to trial if I don’t? It’s not as if they didn’t have enough to say about my behaviour when people were dying!_

“Damn it,” she hissed, and then when that wasn’t enough, she picked up a half-empty mug and hurled it at the wall. “Damn it!”

* * * * *

Regina stalked the corridors of her castle for an hour after she felt Emma’s breathing even out and was convinced that her wife had finally succumbed to sleep. The tense silence while dressing down for bed and then the vast space between their bodies was too much for her already overloaded thoughts to process. She slipped into the darkness and wore it like a second skin, floating along the empty spaces between rooms and filling them with her disturbed aura.

When one too many servants and guards asked her if she needed anything, she slipped into the library and collapsed into a couch. It had been a long time since she’d genuinely missed the fear that her presence elicited in others but tonight, she just wanted to be left alone and having people cower away from her would have been welcome at that moment. The sense of solitude seeped into her pores and began to chip away at the layers of jumbled emotion twisting her heart and stomach. The peace wasn’t to last though and the sound of someone clearing their throat brought the dark queen abruptly from her thoughts. She turned with murder in her eyes and her gaze landed on her live-in wolf.

“Sorry,” Red apologised as she stepped out from behind a bookshelf. “I’ve been climbing the walls with not being aloud out, but something about the smell of books helps,” she offered by way of explanation. “Less wolf, more human.”

Regina reined in her initial reaction to the intrusion and schooled her features. “It’s fine,” she waved off the apology. “There’s no reason why you should expect anyone else to be here at this time of night.”

“Hmm,” the taller brunette made a non-comital noise and wandered around the couch, closer to the door. She was going to leave and find a new place to work off her tension, but the despondent expression on the queen’s face gave her pause. “I take it Emma’s not happy about how you went after her dad in the meeting.”

“That would be the crux of it,” Regina replied.

Red hesitated for a moment before perching on the arm of the nearest chair. “If it makes any difference, I wasn’t sorry to see David sweating a bit under your glare.”

A carefully shaped eyebrow rose in surprise. “Is that so?” There was a question in her eyes that wanted to know the wolf’s reasons but she hesitated to say the words aloud.

A shrug moved the rebel’s shoulders nonchalantly. Out of respect for the queen’s hesitance, she didn’t elaborate, but she thought that it was important that the ex-Evil Queen knew that she wasn’t alone in her opinions. “Snow was my best friend for a long time; she supported me through some very difficult changes, even while she was on the run from you.” She paused to recall those dangerous and exciting years, when everything had seemed so black and white. “She was brave and resourceful when she lived as a bandit. She would stop at nothing to help others, even at the risk of her own life and she ran rings around your guards. But I don’t think it would have taken long before she started to wonder if it was all worth it. When David came along, she found something to fight for again and together, they weren’t going to let anything stop them.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Regina wondered. Hadn’t she heard enough from Leopold about how wonderful Snow was?

“Because I want you to know that they weren’t always so passive,” Red replied with a huff. “And that they _do_ care about the kingdom and its people. But they don’t seem to see villains when they aren’t dressed up and throwing fireballs at them. They were so convinced of their victory and so focussed on enjoying the family they’d fought for, that they completely missed the villains who hid behind diplomacy and false promises.” She sighed again and ran a hand over her tired features. “They contented themselves with throwing charity at every problem and didn’t ever work at finding out why it was needed. They were conned over and over again but took the easy option of letting things slide when they should have used the tenacity they had when fighting you.”

“So that’s why you’re happy to see Charming squirm? Because he stopped fighting?”

“Pretty much,” the wolf shrugged. “I don’t _want_ to see them hurt, but I’m fed up of seeing them brush off the consequences of their inaction like it’s someone else’s problem. It’s time they woke up and took responsibility.”

Regina nodded slowly. She knew that her own reasons for poking Charming’s sore spots were less altruistic, but it helped to hear that she wasn’t entirely misled in her need to make the man see his failures. Now, if only Emma could see things from her point of view. “It’s not quite so easy to acknowledge a person’s failures when you’re their child.”

Red nodded and stood. “Emma wants her parents to be the people she grew up with – the ones who seemed like heroes – not the reality where they’re just human like the rest of us, all with our own weaknesses. She already knows the truth; she’s been battling against it longer than either of us, but it’s harder for her I think when someone she loves is being attacked right in front of her. She’s got their saviour complex after all.”

The queen’s brow arched again as she listened and considered all the angles. Her anger and guilt had mostly melted away, leaving her feeling somewhat resolved though lonely in her thoughts. She couldn’t yet face crawling into bed next to her wife, even as she missed the feel of Emma’s presence next to her own, but she needed the comfort of someone she trusted and knew exactly where she wanted to go. Without a word, she stood and walked around the wolf to get to the door. “Thank you, Red. You’ve given me much to consider. Feel free to use the library as much as you like.”

“Where are you going?” the taller woman asked abruptly. She had a sudden feeling of trepidation and had no idea where it came from.

“Just to visit my father,” the queen replied. “I think I need a reminder of how family has the power to make you do the most illogical things.”

“She really does love you; you know?” Red blurted as the sorceress opened the door. The feeling of unease grew inside her, but without a solid reason to stop Regina from leaving, especially only to visit her father’s grave, she hoped her words would remind the older woman to be careful.

“I know… I love her too.”

* * * * *

Sir Henry’s resting place had been dug just a few metres from Queen Regina’s beloved apple tree. Emma had commissioned the placement of a small, wooden bench beside the plot – enough room for two people to cosy up together if necessary – and often joined her wife in quiet contemplation when they had time between duties. It was the most peaceful place in the entire castle, overlooked only by the queens themselves from their balconies and by the guards on the wall, though they tended to turn their backs to give their monarchs privacy whenever the women wandered there.

The solitude and tranquillity were what made the place so special, but they were also what made its visitors so vulnerable, as Regina was about to discover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do love a good cliff-hanger, *evil chuckle*.


	19. The Trouble with Mothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. No more mince pies for me! Well, maybe just one or two more...

Regina pitched sharply to the left when the wagon hit a pot hole and reached out blindly to stop her head hitting the wall. It was still dark outside, though she knew she’d been travelling for a few hours and it had to be near dawn. Barred holes in the sides of her mobile prison acted as windows, but someone had pulled shutters over the outside and bolted them so that she had only the tiniest of gaps to peer through. It wasn’t enough to see where they were but she already knew where they were going.

_The dark queen approached her father’s grave and the moment she was within five feet of it, she knew there was something wrong. Her skin tingled with the weight of magic around her and before she could react, her entire surroundings changed as she was being transported from the safety of her home._

_As she materialised, something closed around her wrist and the sight of tall, dark fir trees and jagged rock got lost behind the image of her mother’s triumphant smirk. Regina jerked back and automatically conjured a fire ball to her hand, but where flames would normally be licking the air, waiting to be released, nothing happened and she felt the bottom of her stomach plummet._

_“Hello, Regina,” Cora greeted her daughter as she closed bony fingers around the dark queen’s upper arm. She tapped the leather cuff that now resided on the younger woman’s wrist. “Do not bother wasting your energy, dear. This will prevent you from accessing any magic you might think to use against me.”_

_“What…? How…?” Regina flustered as she tried to work out what had happened. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for her to understand the trap she’d walked into. “You cast a spell around Daddy’s grave.”_

_“Insisting on love makes you predictable as well as vulnerable,” Cora taunted. “I knew you would end up there before long. Your father always was sickeningly soft on you.”_

_“I put wards all around the castle,” Regina reminded herself aloud and flushed when her mother cackled derisively._

_“Yes, you did. Yet here we are. I guess you’re not as powerful as you think you are.”_

_It was clear from the response that she wasn’t going to get any answers as to how this feat was accomplished, so Regina decided to figure it out later. Cora would enjoy her confusion too much and she was past fuelling that particular struggle. “So, you have me,” she shrugged. “I am defanged and at your mercy. Do you plan to kill me now or are we going to take a trip back in time and pretend again that you have my best interests at heart?”_

_“Sarcasm does not become you, dear,” Cora responded, her tone hinting at irritation. “I have a theory to test first. That will determine my next move.” Without warning, she thrust her hand into her daughter’s chest cavity and wrapper claw-like fingers around the heart there._

_Regina gasped, tears springing to her eyes as pain ripped through her. It didn’t last long. One sharp tug answered Cora’s question and she removed her hand without the heart. Though fear continued to pump through her veins and she battled against images of Daniel and Emma in a similar predicament, she recovered quickly and realised that her heart was still in her chest. She reached up with a hand to rub at the skin where her mother’s hand had passed through, a look of confusion covering her features._

_“Surprised?” Cora asked knowingly. “After your wife’s little trick in the forest, I did a bit of research. As the product of true-love, she has the power to protect someone’s heart if her feelings for that person are strong enough.” She sneered as if tasting something detestable. “So, I suppose congratulations are in order, Regina; you have managed to pull another innocent into your web of destruction.”_

_“MY web!?” the dark queen seethed. “If not for you and Rumpel, I would probably be living a simple life with Daniel and our children, never having known how it feels to blacken my own heart and soul!”_

_“Do try to rein in the dramatics, dear,” Cora scolded dismissively. “And please do not ignore the facts; you would have resigned yourself to a life of poverty and misery.”_

_“You are impossible to talk to,” Regina muttered after drawing breath to argue and then deciding that it wasn’t worth the effort. “So, you cannot take my heart. I assume, since you took time out of your busy schedule to research true-love, that you attempted the same with Snow and Charming?”_

_Looking like she’d just bitten into a lemon, Cora narrowed her eyes before trying to shrug off the question. “It matters not. Now that I have both you and Snow White, Charming and his daughter will be easy to manipulate.”_

_Regina felt her insides twist again. Emma had come a long way from the princess she’d married, but she was still impulsive and unconcerned about her own safety. She was her father’s daughter and the two Charmings together were likely to get themselves killed before they could successfully mount a rescue. She tried to push those thoughts out of her head and focus on her own dire situation; worrying about something she couldn’t change wasn’t going to help at all._

_“So, where do you plan on locking me away?”_

_“There’s no sense in creating work for myself. I thought you would feel right at home with your step-daughter.” Cora grinned at the sour look on her daughter’s face. “Or should I say, mother-in-law?”_

_Swallowing the first pointless insult that came to mind, Regina rolled her eyes. “Are you forgetting that I cannot cross the border into Snow’s kingdom, or did that fact pass you by?”_

_“Ah, your famed exile and subsequent immortality?” the older woman replied readily. She pulled a paring knife from some hidden place and offered the handle to her daughter. “Very well. Let’s test that theory too, shall we?”_

In the meagre light of the wagon’s rear box, Regina couldn’t see the shallow wound on her hand but she could feel the throbbing of nerves beneath her skin – a sensation that she had not felt linger for many years. She was forced to face the fact that she was mortal again. Snow’s curse had been broken and she had a good idea how that had happened. Closing her eyes, she could picture Emma sitting next to her, the blonde’s piercing, green eyes communicating a depth of love that Regina could feel even across the widening distance between them.

It pained her to imagine Emma’s panic when she eventually discovered that Regina was gone. What would she think? Would she assume that their argument had driven Regina away, or would she immediately think that foul-play was at hand? At least Red would be able to account for her whereabouts in the middle of the night and note that her state of mind had been somewhat calm towards the end of their conversation. She didn’t want Emma to feel guilty for refusing to talk to her and appearing to drive her away.

_This is accomplishing nothing,_ the queen admonished herself as her thoughts turned increasingly maudlin. There was nothing she could do for her wife now. The only thing she could do was hope that Emma could curb her need to be heroic and take the time to plan her next move.

Ever the strategist, she began to analyse everything she’d learned so far that night. Emma was her true love and together they’d broken the curse that prolonged her life and kept her barred from Snow White’s kingdom; her heart was protected by that love and if Cora knew that, it meant she had already tried to take the heart of someone else Emma loved – Snow and Charming; Cora had used an alternate method of controlling the Charming couple while in the process of taking over their rule – probably a potion, which would have limited use when their bodies built up a tolerance; she and Snow were going to be cell mates, or at least neighbours – that could have potential benefits if she could wheedle any information out of the airhead… If she could suffer the White queen’s company long enough to get answers before she felt like hanging herself.

* * * * *

Emma knew something was wrong the second she opened her eyes and Regina was not in bed beside her. Having woken more than once in the night to an empty space where her wife should be, she had chalked it up to Regina still brooding over their spat, but the sheets were barely cold then and a hint of the dark queen’s magical residue had lingered. Now, the complete physical and ethereal absence was alarming.

An hour later, after a long, panicked search, Emma stood beside Sir Henry’s resting place with Red and her father and was convinced that Regina had not disappeared by choice. She was by no means an expert on the subject, but from what she’d learned, the bitter scent of ozone in the air instead of the sweet tang of her wife’s distinctive scent told her that someone else had performed magic in the area. Magic that reminded her sharply of her mother-in-law’s acrid signature.

“Red, you said you saw her late last night,” Emma began as she turned to her friend. “Did she say anything when you parted?”

“She came into the library while I was in there,” the wolf replied readily. “We talked about the state of Snow’s kingdom and how it got that way. And about how it’s past time someone took your parents to account for their lack of action.” While she didn’t think they would ever be bosom buddies, she had gained a new-found respect for the ex-Evil Queen and knew that their position was weakened without the sorceress there. Conversely, her respect for the White kingdom’s monarchs had taken a sharp downturn and she found she couldn’t censor her opinions just for Prince Charming.

“Red,” Emma hissed as she caught her father’s wince.

The wolf shook her head at the young queen, but turned to address the king directly. “David, we’ve known each other a long time, so I say this with the utmost respect for the man I knew; you and Snow failed your people and you need to realise that the road back will not be easy.” Without pause, she shifted her attention to the young queen. “Emma, you had to deal with the fallout from your parents’ lack of leadership. I know you want to protect them from the pain of their guilt, but that is exactly the attitude that put us in this mess.”

“I understand perfectly well,” David insisted indignantly, “that Snow and I have been too trusting, but you’re talking as if our mistakes were equal to the Evil Queen’s slaughter. What she did was deliberate and monstrous!”

“I’m not suggesting that they’re the same at all,” the tall brunette replied hotly. “But have you seen what the _Evil Queen_ has done with her kingdom since? She knows the depths of her darkness and knows her crimes. She hasn’t spent years making excuses for the state of the poor peasants and ignored their suffering. _That_ is the point, your majesty!”

“We didn’t ignore them,” the king argued, feeling the sting of the accusation.

“You ignored the problem,” Red clarified, thinking of all the misplaced charity wagons that had eased the monarchy’s conscience but had ultimately not ended up where they were intended to be.

“Enough!” Emma’s voice rose above her companions’ and she glared at both of them until they backed down. “We’re wasting time when we should be looking for Regina. No matter what happened in the past, or why, my wife is missing and there’s a good chance that she is an unwilling guest of her mother’s hospitality. If anyone deserves our condemnation right now, it’s Cora.”

With a tentative truce agreed between old friends, Emma summoned someone who had a better grasp of magic than her and confirmed what she’d suspected; Cora had managed to penetrate their barrier just enough to place a simple trigger spell. The woman had known the moment her daughter had stepped close to Sir Henry’s grave and managed to punch through just long enough to catch Regina unawares, transporting her from safety before anyone could possibly offer up a defence.

After allowing terror to flood her body the rest of the morning, she gathered her wits and her head guards and focussed on the anger that grew in the wake of her fear. “Our enemy has struck a vicious blow against us,” she told them as she stood in the courtyard, facing the elite of hers and Regina’s army. She dug deep into the drawer where she kept all of her training for royal addresses – she’d always thought that elocution was a pointless lesson to learn, but when Regina spoke, the people paid attention; at least some of that had to be because of the fancy words she used. “Cora has forced our hand by taking our queen. She assumes that this attack will make us careless. We cannot wait the winter while our beloved lies in the hands of our enemy, but neither can we charge ahead, unprepared.”

Emma scanned the growing crowd and felt power stir in her veins. She had never been given cause to address her subjects like this. Her wife had always taken point on any big announcements, leaving Emma to direct smaller groups. It worked for both of them that way, but she could see now why Regina became so fired up after one of her speeches. Commanding so many people through sheer trust and loyalty was intoxicating. These people looked to her for guidance and leadership – she couldn’t let them down.

“In a few days’ time, I will lead an attack against the forces holding my mother’s castle. Tomorrow morning, I will listen to any sound advice you have to give. No matter how insignificant you think your role within these walls, know that you are all valued and your contributions are equally encouraged.”

She paused again and watched as their faces hardened with determination and pride. Her gaze travelled to the far reaches of the courtyard where maids, cooks and farriers had also gathered. She felt her father’s surprised features assessing her and turned briefly to acknowledge him. He had not been born to this life – as a shepherd, he’d only been responsible for herding sheep, but he’d grown into his title of ‘prince’ with dignity and courage. That was how he’d always appeared to her and that image reminded her of a conversation with her wife and Queen Abigail – her conclusion that her mother had been born to fill the role of ‘princess’ and nothing more. Perhaps the same could be said for him.

Snow White and Prince Charming were legends; larger than life figures who’d stopped at nothing to defend the people and defeat the Evil Queen. That dogged effort deserved respect.

But Emma knew that her parents couldn’t continue to wear those roles as shields against life. It was why they had failed to live up to their royal duties; they were prepared to move the stars to battle ferocious beasts and maniacal sorcerers, but life wasn’t just about the big battles – the small, everyday struggles were important too. Somewhere along the line, they’d forgotten that.

“We will win this war because we have something that Cora does not value – we have love. We have love for each other and we have love for our queen. My wife once told a little girl that true love is the most powerful magic of all.” She glanced at her father and smiled, enjoying the expression of renewed memory on his face. Green eyes travelled once more over the people in front of her and absorbed the startled realisation that stared back. “That power runs through my veins and together, we can only make it stronger.” Feeling the energy of their combined enthusiasm, she softened her tone and projected over the heads of almost every person in the castle, “Are you with me?”

* * * * *

As she was escorted through Snow’s castle, Regina couldn’t help but think about the last time she’d been here. Snow and Charming’s wedding – the one where she’d told everyone that her dark curse was coming. Had she not been led to such theatrics, Snow would not have panicked and felt the need to make deals with strange creatures, Regina would not have been banished from the kingdom, and she would have learned what she needed to know from Rumpelstiltskin at a time when she might actually have been capable of sacrificing her father for her ‘happiness’.

Such a stupid decision it seemed in hindsight – her father had been her anchor and killing him would have created a void in her heart that she could never fill. What sort of idiot would make that choice? But she knew the answer; a desperately angry and depressed idiot. Of course, without such theatrics or Snow’s panicked deal, she would not have been cursed and would not now be married to someone she truly loved. She would not have the happiness she’d felt these last three years.

As she imagined Emma growing up here, she thought about those months spent sobbing into her pillow and hiding away from the world. While she’d hated herself for being weak and felt her mother’s sharp words more keenly than ever, she could not have opened her heart to Emma without letting go of Daniel. It had been necessary.

All thoughts of the past faded away as she found herself being led to the dungeons. She knew this castle almost as well as her own home. She’d spent enough hours wandering its corridors, hating her life and fantasising about what she could have had without Snow’s interference. Being led through as a prisoner though gave her a new perspective on its clever and well-defensible layout. Escape would be almost as impossible as a siege. They were protected on three sides by water and cliffs which were near impossible to climb – flanking was not an option. Cora would have surrounded the castle with her own barrier spells, but if by some miracle Emma did make it past, there were still massively thick walls to hinder her. The chances of success were low. At least, without in depth knowledge they were.

They reached the cells at the far end of the dungeon and a hard shove from her guard made Regina collide with the bars. She resisted the urge to glare at him, knowing that it would only encourage him to torment her further – she remembered well what it felt like from the other side. Instead, she focussed on the pitiful creature lying on the cot in the last cell.

“Snow,” she whispered into the murky half-light of the torch-lit room.

“Mistress Cora said you two would be happy to bunk next to each other,” the guard grunted. His keys rattled in the lock with far more noise that was necessary and Regina ducked inside – with as much dignity as she could muster in the circumstances – before he could touch her again. He glared at being thwarted and slammed the door with such force that the other occupant couldn’t ignore the disturbance any longer.

“She’s not calling herself ‘queen’ yet then?” Regina wondered aloud, her voice giving away none of her inner turmoil. “Tell her, if she’s deliberating over an official title, ‘empress’ has a nice ring to it.”

The guard shuffled off with another grunt, leaving the prisoners largely to their own devices as he joined another ruffian at a table and picked up a mug of something brown and frothing. Regina waited until he had his back to her before turning to her neighbour.

Snow’s normally pale, but healthy complexion had been replaced by a waxy pallor that made even her greying hair appear dark. Her locks, once shiny and flowing, had been hacked short and lay limply against her skull. Vacant hazel eyes peered up at the dark queen for several long seconds before she appeared to understand what she was seeing.

“Regina?”

The older queen leant casually against her bars and waited until Snow dragged herself into a seated position. “Hello, Snow.”

Blood-shot eyes widened comically at the realisation that the Evil Queen was so close. “How did you get here? You can’t set foot in my kingdom!”

“Oh, can’t I?” Regina questioned with a raised brow. She couldn’t help wanting to poke at the other woman when Snow took that bossy tone.

Snow flushed, her skin finding a colour other than sickly-green for a few seconds. “I mean, I didn’t think you could move across the border between our kingdoms.”

Regina shrugged. “My mother was desperate for my company, apparently.” Old habits die hard and she wasn’t sure how much information to trust to her former betrayer. Just looking at the woman who had once, so innocently, destroyed her life – she wanted to give Snow nothing that could be used against her. But Snow was Emma’s mother, so it wasn’t a surprise when the blonde’s name was the next on those rose-red lips. “She was in bed and sleeping soundly when I last saw her. Considering how given she is to heroics, I’ve no doubt that she’s thinking about mounting a rescue by now.” She shook her head at the idiocy of such an endeavour, but couldn’t help the slight thrill that ran through her body – someone out there cared about her enough to risk their own life for her safety. Someone loved her.

The short-haired brunette nodded to herself and allowed a wan smile to play across her mouth. “That’s my girl,” she whispered reverently. “How disappointed she must be in her mother,” Snow bemoaned. “You have to tell her… if something happens to me… Regina, please tell her that I was not entirely in control of myself these past few years. I didn’t want to dismiss her so often,” she cried pitifully.

The sorceress rolled her eyes – partly at the snotty tears that brought back uncomfortable memories, and partly because she shared some of the blame in Emma’s solo struggle against her parents. Had she not let pride and grudges rule her mind, she might have uncovered Cora’s infiltration much earlier.

“She knows, Snow,” Regina muttered reluctantly. When hopeful, hazel eyes fixed on her, she had to look away. “Since I joined her struggle against your kingdom’s broken bureaucracy, we’ve become aware of the attempts to discredit and dethrone you.” Summoning the effort, she turned back to her mother-in-law and tried to find some compassion. “If Emma had had her way, she would have charged to your rescue months ago.”

Snow closed her eyes for several minutes as she thought about what her daughter must be thinking and feeling. It scared her to imagine her baby riding headlong into Cora’s web just to rescue her and, knowing how stubborn the girl could be, she wondered how long it had taken Regina to convince Emma not to leap before she looked.

“Thank you,” she whispered eventually and peered through the bars again to her former enemy. “You must have had a battle to talk some sense into her… Thank you for taking care of her.”

Regina coughed uncomfortably. “She is my wife. It is my duty,” she answered dismissively. 

Though she’d spent years taking her step-mother’s words at face value, Snow heard the emotionless tone and thought better of it. There was something else in Regina’s eyes; something much deeper than duty which motivated her. Respecting the other woman’s reticence on the matter, she consoled herself with the idea that her daughter was safe and well, even while the world seemed to be falling down around them.

Through silent agreement, they each fell into their own thoughts. Snow, still weakened from her prolonged imprisonment, drifted in and out of consciousness while her neighbour returned to cataloguing all of the facts she’d learned to date and theorising over her mother’s longevity.

Snow’s meddling had temporarily stopped Regina from ageing – physically, the once-step-daughter was now the older of the two – but she hadn’t yet fathomed Cora’s still youthful appearance. Was it Wonderland? Did that place have time-twisting properties that she’d been unaware of? Had the old witch discovered some other land with similar effects? Or had she found a spell or potion that kept her from the ravages of time? Had Snow’s meddling caused this – had her helpful shadow creature given more than one Mills woman immortality?

Two hours passed before voices and shuffling at the end of the corridor broke through her thoughts. Regina recognised her mother’s snake-like tone instantly and she stole herself for a battle of wills. Her heart picked up speed and her mind flashed back to lying in bed as a child, hearing Cora return home and knowing that she had not completed the endless tasks she’d been given that day. Only years of practise gave her the presence to banish the terrifying memory and focus on the approaching witch. Her expression gave nothing away and she met cold eyes without flinching away from their malevolent depths.

“How do you like your accommodations, dear?” Cora began smugly.

Regina shrugged just slightly. “While I am rather partial to dark tones, the décor could use a splash of colour.”

“I thought it would be right up your alley,” the older witch replied with mock sincerity. “This is not a world away from what you could have had with your stable boy.”

Biting her tongue, the dark queen ignored the bait. She glanced over at Snow and found the White queen’s hollow gaze staring back – observing mother and daughter cautiously. To Cora, she asked, “Is it your goal to turn her into a living skeleton?”

A smirk pulled at spare lips. “She is a woman of the people, or so she claims. I thought she might appreciate a deeper understanding of just what it means to be at the mercy of a corrupt monarchy. I should have liked to see her mother waste away like this, but alas, I had no time to linger with Ava.”

“You will lose your leverage if she dies,” Regina reminded her mother. She pretended to consider the situation further, her eyes running over her ailing neighbour. “Right now, she looks like one stiff wind would knock her over. Imagine if she caught a cough?”

Cora waved off the concern, but the seed had already been planted. Regina saw the growing thoughts flash behind her mother’s stern expression and knew that she had pressed as far as she could with that topic. It was time to switch things up.

“I forgot to tell you how well you are looking, mother. Your herbalists must have a magic touch.” She wore her best political smile and schooled her features carefully when that penetrating gaze pinned her where she stood. “If only Daddy had had their services; we could have kept the whole family together.” It was a delicate balance to appeal to her mother’s vanity while also insulting it. Cora would cherish any compliment on her looks but would detest any assumption that it was not the fruit of her own labours. For Regina to credit common peasants with her genius was possibly the worst insult anyone could give her.

“The old fool is better off where he is. Had he not filled your head with so much nonsense, we would not have been at odds so often, daughter.” Her mouth was pulled into a thin line and it twitched with the effort not to say more.

“You might have had more success in brainwashing me? Forgive me if I don’t jump for joy at the thought; I have never wanted what you covet.” Regina’s mouth fought against a smile as Cora’s face tightened even more. “I must admit that I have enjoyed these last two decades of youthfulness without the pesky downside of having sold my soul. Snow adopted that burden quite nicely. How dreadful it must be to see me succeed where you have failed.” Rage burned behind eyes that had once terrified the young Mills princess. Queen Regina knew that she was playing with fire but, as she’d learned over the years, love was not the only emotion that could make a person unguarded.

Cora’s hand snapped up and wrapped invisible tendrils around her daughter’s neck, lifting her an inch or two off the ground. “You insolent girl. Everything you are now is because of me; because of the sacrifices _I_ made! You earned your title on your back, like a common whore. You wasted every opportunity to destroy Snow White and you have allowed yourself to become weak for another pretty blonde.”

Regina tried to listen for the clues in her mother’s ranting even as she struggled against the invisible bindings around her throat and raged at the criticism. She thrashed more than she needed to, hoping that her obvious distress might satisfy the sadistic witch, but she didn’t need to dig deep to find the fear that accompanied this particular torture.

“While you have bonded with the peasants in an effort to earn their forgiveness, I have probed the darkest corners of this land to find matters of legend. I have studied and learned to wield magics of which you could only dream.” She watched the lack of air begin to pull her daughter’s eyes closed. She had the power now – to let Regina die or spare her life a little longer. She couldn’t understand why her daughter refused to embrace the darkness like she had and was tempted to do away with the disappointment she’d birthed once and for all, but she still needed her bait alive. With a flick of her wrist, the dark queen dropped to the ground, gasping.

Snow looked on helplessly as her former nemesis coughed and spluttered in an attempt to drag air back into her lungs. She could hardly believe that this was the same woman who had tormented her for years; who had killed her father, exiled her, waged war against her kingdom and trapped her daughter in a forced marriage. As for Cora – it was easy now to see why a young Regina Mills had so desperately wanted to keep secret the knowledge of her relationship with Daniel.

“Leave her alone!” she cried hoarsely. Her throat was scratchy and dry from lack of water and her voice trembled at the thought of turning the older Mills’ wrath on herself. She was aware that her protest had come too late, but she’d been too stunned before to move.

Cora’s attention turned to the mousy creature in the next cell. “Ah, Snow. You would have sympathy for your enemy? This woman, who killed your father and violated your daughter?” She saw doubt cross the prisoner’s eyes and cackled softly. “You might want to be careful with who you choose to help.” With one last disdainful look at Regina’s shaking form, she swept her coat behind her and sank into the darkness.

* * * * *

Regina had refused to answer any of Snow’s pleas that night while she recovered from her mother’ punishment. It galled her to know that another person had been witness to the kind of treatment that she had become accustomed to as a child. Cora had never taken her anger that far before – she had needed to exert very little pressure to encourage Regina’s compliance as a child, but the young girl had learned early on not to share her pain with anyone else.

A guard had pushed under the bars a bowl of something that looked vaguely like food and she’d watched with a mixture of disgust and pity as Snow inhaled the entirety of it. The look of shame and hunger in those hazel orbs had cut through any lingering hatred in the dark queen’s heart and after checking to see that no one was watching, Regina carefully pushed her own bowl across into the next cell, her gaze telling the White queen that this was the start of something new between them. An olive-branch. A rebirth.

It took an hour after their bowls were removed for the silence to break. To her own surprise, Regina was the first to speak.

“It was never my intention to kill your father, you know?” she said softly into the musty-smelling air between them. A gaunt face looked at her sharply and she pressed on before the other woman could interrupt. “Oh, I intended to kill my husband, yes. I was elated to be free of him,” she explained. “But hurting you that way was an unfortunate necessity.”

Snow’s thoughts warred with one another. “It was _necessary_ to kill him?”

“Yes,” Regina answered simply. “I will not apologise for successfully cutting off my shackles and escaping my prison.”

A tear escaped red-rimmed eyes and cut a path over pale cheeks. Snow wiped them away with a torn sleeve and took a deep breath. “What about Emma?” she pressed on after a few terse minutes. Cora’s parting words had tormented her all night but since her neighbour had refused to talk then, she had kept her concerns to herself. She could probably forgive a woman who had been trying to get out of a bad situation, but she didn’t think she could ever forgive Regina for deliberately hurting her baby girl.

Regina hesitated as she weighed up the pros and cons of revealing the reality of her marriage. After deciding that the cons were all related to easing Snow’s pain, she sighed and took pity on the woman. “Emma and I did not consummate our marriage until very recently,” she confessed to a shocked gasp. “I thoroughly enjoyed making you miserable on the night of our wedding, but I did not touch her then. We made a pact that we would live as a married couple and as equals so long as she told no one of our unofficial status.” Unable to resist at least one dig at her enemy, she added, “At least your daughter knows how to keep a secret.”

Snow had long since learned not to be so sensitive to that particular insult and in light of what she’d just learned, she let it slide without comment. “She chose to stay with you?”

“Yes.”

“And you are bound together now?”

Anticipating where this conversation was going, Regina rolled her eyes and sighed again. “Ask what you want to ask, Snow. I am not in the mood for games.”

Encouraged by the uncharacteristic openness, Snow didn’t hesitate. “Do you love her?”

Dark eyes peered through the gloom. Regina knew her response and yet she couldn’t help but be wary. The last time she had spewed her feelings to this woman, her whole life had been turned on its head. This time though it involved someone they both loved and wanted to protect. Besides, Cora already knew her feelings for Emma, so it wasn’t as if she needed Snow to keep her mouth shut.

Steeling herself, she answered, “Yes.”


	20. What's Love Got To Do With It?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love it when Snow's being irritating - it brings out the best reactions in Regina. She's the ultimate test for Regina's redemption.

The deafening roar of approval from the crowd continued to ring in Emma’s ears hours after her courtyard speech. By the end of two days, Emma had heard everyone’s suggestions, had sent out messages to the villages to let the leaders know what had happened, and had a plan of attack worked out. All relevant parties gathered in the war room, around the giant map and waited to receive their orders.

Emma had barely slept since her wife’s abduction. She agonised over the way she’d treated Regina after their quarrel couldn’t help imagining what she should have said instead of behaving like petulant child. Red’s words replayed in her mind and she remembered how willing she had been to see her parents’ failures when she had been fighting their ignorance alone, when she had been able to separate herself from Princess Emma (the child of Snow and Charming) and the queen she’d become, who had responsibilities beyond those of loving and obeying the people who’d given her life.

With Charming’s capture and eventual rescue, she’d allowed the scared little girl inside to rise to the surface and react without thought to the verbal attacks against him. Regina treated David with contempt because she still disliked him and his wife, but that didn’t mean her words were without validity. Emma still wished that Regina had held her comments until there were fewer spectators around, but she couldn’t place all the blame at her wife’s feet. She could only hope now that it wasn’t too late to apologise.

“The villages are prepared to defend themselves, your majesty,” Captain Briggs told Queen Emma from across the table. “The garrisons are stocked and reinforced.”

“Food?” Emma asked the room. While it had been up to her to prioritise the tasks, the captain and his lieutenant had given out the assignments. A nagging voice at the back of her mind told her that Regina would have made it a point to know who had adopted those tasks regardless, but it was too late now and the young queen filed it as something to remember for next time… while fervently hoping that there wasn’t a next time.

It was a wiry young man who answered from the end of the table. Emma vaguely recognised him as one of Captain Briggs’ runners. “Half of the preserved food has been secured in the villages, the rest at various locations around the kingdom. If we find ourselves under siege, we can hold out for the winter at least, until fresh supplies can be smuggled in.”

“Queen Abigail has pledged her support wherever we may need it.” Lieutenant Fowler informed the monarch finally. “As per your orders, we have asked her to hold position on our border to deter attacks on Queen’s Rest and to flank the enemy if it comes to that. She also wanted you to know that they are prepared to take refugees for the winter.”

Emma felt the loosening of some of her worries but kept her relief buried behind a short nod. “That should allow us some leeway with troop movements if we need more support south of the Gold Kingdom,” she thought aloud. “It goes without saying that being entrenched is the last thing we want for our people. We need a swift resolution to this conflict and the return of our queen. We ride out tomorrow before first light and once we are committed to our directives, there will be no turning back, understood?” There was a smattering of assent before they all fell quiet again. “Captain?” she prompted, leaving him to remind everyone of their orders.

“King David and I will lead a company of two hundred in a frontal attack on Queen Snow’s castle from the north and attempt to draw out the bulk of Cora’s army. Our rebel allies from the White kingdom will approach from their position south of the castle and hopefully create enough of a distraction to draw Cora’s eye away from where we actually intend to penetrate their defences.” The long switch in his hand ran a path from the far mountains that cut Snow’s kingdom off from the largely unexplored regions beyond her south-eastern border before jumping over to the forest which lay to the north-east. “Lieutenant Fowler and Queen Emma will lead a small troop of our best fighters towards the west wall. Queen Emma’s knowledge of her childhood home will provide her the best opportunity to slip past our enemy and locate Queen Regina.” He paused to share a look with the queen and when she nodded her agreement, he began to wrap up the meeting. “You all have your assignments. I need not tell you how important it is that you are prepared for tomorrow, so I’m trusting each and every one of you to use the rest of today wisely. Dismissed.”

Emma watched as everyone filed out of the room and gave a few of them encouraging words and smiles as they disappeared. When only she and her two leading officers remained, she allowed her shoulders to relax a little. “Have our other plans been set in motion?”

The captain nodded solemnly. “Yes, your majesty. All relevant parties have been informed of their duties.” He paused to consider his next words, mindful of the young queen’s determination to be part of the frontline fighting. “It is not too late to put another in your place. You might still direct our attack from the rear.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Did my wife say something to the two of you? because I’m getting a little tired of defending my ability to handle myself in combat.” At the very guilty expressions on both men’s faces, she had her answer. She scoffed and shook her head. “Of course, she did. Well, I’ll be sure to tell her that you made every effort to stop me. If I’m ever going to speak to her again, we need to find her in my parents’ castle, and the best way to do that, is to use me. Are there any other protests I should know about?”

The officers exchanged a look of mild amusement and dipped their heads apologetically. “No, your majesty,” Captain Briggs replied. “We will see to the final preparations if you need us for nothing else.”

“Dismissed,” Emma said with a little more force than before but not without fondness in her gaze.

* * * * *

Regina paced in her cell. Since her confession, Snow had become uncharacteristically reticent and the silence was beginning to get to her. How long did they have until her mother returned to poke at them some more? What was Emma doing? Had she raised an army yet? Was she already riding headlong to her rescue? She hoped not. She hoped that Briggs and Fowler had followed her orders and steered her wife off the path of irrational heroism. It was a stupid hope to have; Emma would sooner die than not fight.

A smile pulled the corners of her mouth higher as she pictured the fire in green eyes and the determination in her wife’s jaw. Emma at her most passionate was a sight to behold and though it terrified her, it also brought comfort to know that there was someone out there who cared about her enough to risk life and limb. All of those years that she’d witnessed Charming and Snow racing to each other’s rescue, she had laughed at how pathetic their love made them. But it wasn’t pathetic, not really; they had something worth fighting for and it had torn Regina apart to know that she would never have that.

Except, now she did have that. Against all odds, she was loved again and each time her thoughts turned to bouncing blonde curls and a warm, green gaze, she felt her heart soar with happiness.

She scratched at the skin beneath the cuff on her wrist. Every time she tried to access her magic, she felt its dampening effects and the uncomfortable pinching of nerves around the site. For some reason, it reacted to her thoughts about Emma too and her brain was fighting against fanciful ideas as she tried to figure out why.

“How are we going to escape?” Snow’s raspy voice broke through the gloom.

Regina, wrenched from her thoughts, hid her startled jump with a deep sigh and lowered herself onto her cot. She was hungry. Half of her food so far had gone to restore some of the colour to her former enemy’s pallor, but that generosity was going to have to stop. Their assigned portions were not enough for one person – as evidenced by Snow’s sunken cheeks – and she knew that she had to keep her strength up if she was going to have a hope of getting them out of there.

“I don’t know,” Regina replied irritably.

“Can’t you use your magic?” Snow pressed.

Dark eyes glared through the bars. “No, Snow,” she spat. “Do you not think I might have considered that already?” She held up her arm and revealed the leather cuff. “This prevents my using magic. Even if I thought I could win a confrontation against her, I cannot even try.”

Confusion pulled at the other queen’s face. “But…”

“What?” the sorceress growled.

“You were glowing,” Snow told her. “Just a moment ago, while you were deep in thought, you were glowing.” She contemplated her neighbour for a few seconds before she began to form an idea. “What were you thinking about?”

Desperately wanting to avoid a conversation about true-love and happily-ever-afters, Regina shrugged. “Nothing of consequence,” she replied. But of course, her nonchalance had never been enough to stop her former step-daughter when the girl had a bee in her bonnet.

“Were you thinking about Emma? Because as you know, true-love is the most powerful magic of all.”

 _And there it is,_ Regina winced. “Snow, don’t…”

“But _you_ were the one who told me that, and it always helped me when David and I were fighting for each other.”

“A fat lot of good it did _me_ though!”

Snow sighed with regret. “I’m sorry,” she bit off before she could think better of it. “But he wasn’t a victim of love, Regina,” she said before she lost her nerve, deliberately avoiding using _his_ name. “He was a victim of hate and ambition… And so were you.”

Lids slammed shut over dark eyes to prevent the sting of tears from making their mark. Anger bit at Regina’s insides, but its grip on her fizzled out within seconds. Snow was right; Cora’s distain for love and her need for power were the poisons which had robbed Daniel of his life. “I am no match for her, Snow,” she insisted weakly. Thinking of her lost love made her feel tired all of a sudden.

“Not when you’re using dark magic maybe,” Snow thought aloud.

Hearing the cogs whirring from across the combined space of their cells, Regina narrowed her eyes. Snow's thought process was making her uncomfortable and her immediate instinct was to dismiss this direction. “Even if I had the ability to use light magic, my true-love is dead, remember?”

“I can’t comment on what abilities you need to have but you just told me that you love Emma,” the White Queen persisted. “It doesn’t have to be destined to be true, Regina.”

“What are you suggesting? With this on,” she held up her wrist again, “I can’t access my magic.”

Raised voices from along the corridor, where their guards sat at a table playing some sort of dice game, highlighted the fact that they were not alone and both queens waited a few minutes before silently agreeing to close ranks and continue their conversation in whispers.

With barely concealed enthusiasm, Snow settled into the corner of her cell closest to her neighbour. It had been weeks since she’d had friendly contact with another human and despite the fact that she was trying to cosy up to her former tormentor, she felt safe putting her trust in Regina.

“Try making a fireball,” she suggested softly through the bars.

Regina frowned but complied without complaint, holding her fisted hand out before twisting it open and willing fire into her palm. As expected, nothing happened and she huffed with mild frustration. “See?”

“So…” Snow hesitated and considered for a moment the absurdity of what she was about to say. _The Evil Queen and my daughter!_ She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Try thinking about Emma this time.” At her neighbour’s sceptical expression, she elaborated, “Close your eyes and imagine a peaceful moment with just the two of you.”

Blowing out an exasperated and just slightly embarrassed puff of air, Regina pushed her hair back and tried to swallow the tightness in her throat. “Fine, but you have to be silent. I can still barely look at you without wanting set you on fire. It will be difficult to conjure feelings of love if I’m busy imagining you writhing in pain.” She said all of this without turning to look through the bars and closed her eyes without waiting for an answer.

Several minutes past before Regina could block out all irritation that came as the Snow White package. Difficulty concentrating was only made worse by the fact that she could feel herself being watched; she hated appearing vulnerable in front of anyone. _Not anyone,_ she reminded herself as an image of vibrant green pierced her memory. Once Emma’s face became clear in her mind, the world outside of her own bubble slipped away more easily. She forgot to think about magic at first; thinking about her wife and the closeness of the recent months drew her into a cosy nest of stolen moments. It wasn’t until the nerves beneath her cuff began to prickle uncomfortably that she opened her eyes again. The lingering glow around her hand surprised her and she looked up with wide eyes to find Snow smiling at her.

Regina practised on and off for the next several hours. She pushed herself until she could barely keep her eyes open, had a nap, ate anything that had been shoved into her cell and started all over again. With each repetition, she dug up more and more memories – moments that wove together over the years to create this wonderful fullness in her chest.

It seemed impossible that, for so long, she could have been oblivious to what was happening, but things like… putting Emma to bed after the first time she’d over indulged on wine; seeing green eyes light up when Regina had gone out of her way to do something extra special for her birthday; hearing Emma’s uninhibited laugh when she was taken by surprise at Regina’s dark humour; the compassion, patience and understanding that Emma gave readily on the rare occasion that Regina opened up about her past troubles and misdeeds; and the passion and tenderness that accompanied their new closeness.

Each of these memories came together to fuel her efforts, but it was only when she no longer felt the burning resistance from the cuff’s dampening spell that she knew Snow was right – loving Emma had given her access to light magic.

It was hard to tell exactly how much time had passed since Regina’s arrival in Snow’s dungeon – the hours passed strangely in the perpetual, torch-lit gloom. She estimated about three days. In that time, her mother had visited to taunt her twice more, each time sneering at how ill the ex-Evil Queen looked and mocking her inability to fight back or escape. It took every bit of self-control and some well-timed interruptions from Snow to stop her from acting prematurely and ruining what little hope they had left.

As Regina forced herself to swallow the gloopy mess that passed as food, she observed her neighbour and pondered over the unspoken truce between them. Adversity made for strange bed fellows.

Snow’s overall appearance had improved since Regina’s arrival. Their meals were slightly larger now, due no doubt to Cora’s fear that her captives might die before they served their use, and it showed in the slightly less waxy look of the White queen’s skin. The company had lifted her spirits too, and she’d dived into the role of look-out and accomplice with renewed enthusiasm. Who’d have thought that the Evil Queen and Snow White could work so well together? One thing Snow still lacked though was patience. Ever the spoiled brat, when she wanted something, she had to have it instantly or she whined until someone made it happen. Evidently, that approach had not worked with Cora or the guards, but with a reformed villain as her only company now, Snow soon lapsed into old habits.

“Surely, you must have mastered it by now,” the pixy-haired queen grumbled from her bed an hour or two later. “You’ve been at it for ages.”

Regina felt the words and the irritation that came with them and worked to overlay each piqued note with an image or sound from her ‘bank of Emma’. From experience, she knew that snapping at Snow would get her nowhere, and since she was going to have to control her negative emotions to have any hope of channelling this new magic and defeating her mother, she figured that she might as well use this time to grow a thicker skin. Cora knew which buttons to push like no other. If she couldn’t summon love the way she’d learned to summon hate, she would have no chance.

“What’s your rush?” she asked, hoping to provoke another bout from the petulant queen.

“What’s my rush!?” Snow screeched, briefly drawing the attention of the guards. They watched for a couple of minutes before getting bored and going back to their game. “Charming and Emma are out there and your mother is going to squash them like bugs.”

“Have you no faith in their abilities?”

Snow scoffed. “You said so yourself; they’re impulsive. David is at least trained to fight, but Emma…”

“Has spent three years away from your castle,” Regina interrupted, only barely managing to hold onto her focus this time. _Damn it. Get it together, Regina._ Several calming breaths brought her simmering magic back under control and her tone softened. “She was a fair archer before I married her – something she no doubt inherited from you – and she practises regularly. She trains with our guard weekly and has been learning to use her magic. We have also been strategizing for weeks over how to retake control of your kingdom. She is not so ill prepared as you apparently think. She is not a child, Snow.”

“You want her to fight your mother?” Snow asked, surprised.

“No, I do not _want_ her to fight anyone,” the sorceress sighed. “If the situation were reversed though, I would not allow anyone to stop me from attempting to rescue her. How can I expect her to behave differently?”

Snow sat back with a slight huff; she had no immediate comeback for that. The quiet didn’t last long though and she shot up as her original grievance returned to her. “So, why exactly aren’t you ready yet?”

A growl grew in Regina’s throat. _This love stuff is hard work_ , she thought.

* * * * *

Emma watched from her bedroom window as her people readied for battle. With dawn still a couple of hours away, torches lit the courtyard and a blanket of flickering shadows followed the flow of bodies. No one dawdled in their tasks, each individual rushing to and fro with provisions for the soldiers or equipment for the horses, but there was order in the chaos – a sense of confidence in responsibility. She longed to be down there, amidst the noise and smells. Anywhere that might help her forget for a moment that her entire future was on the line.

Turning reluctantly away, she directed her gaze at the blonde stood in front of the mirror and tried to summon a smile. “You look great,” she observed.

Matilda nodded nervously but she stood tall, ready to do her duty. She observed her reflection for a moment, taking in her outfit and hair. Queen Emma placed a cloak around her shoulders and she secured it in front before pulling the hood in place. “I’m ready,” she said confidently.

“You’re sure?” Emma asked hesitantly. As much as she wanted to get underway and rescue her wife, she was unwilling to put anyone in unnecessary danger. “You know what’s likely to happen if you’re captured.”

“I understand, your majesty,” Matilda smiled wanly. “We must all do our part to free your mother’s kingdom from Cora’s clutches. My family is over there. I don’t even know if they’re still alive.” She took a moment to absorb that thought and sighed heavily before meeting the queen’s eyes with renewed determination. “I’m doing this as much for myself as for you, your majesty.”

That statement eased some of Emma’s conscience – she hated the thought of her people fighting and dying for her – but the maid’s words reminded her that there was much more at stake than her wife and her crown; her people and Snow’s lived at the mercy of their monarchy and right now, half of that monarchy was a mess of corruption and cruelty. The people wanted an end to those horrors as much as she did and they had a right to fight for it.

Surprising the maid, Emma pulled her into a hug and held on tight as she whispered in her ear, “Thank you, Tilly.” She released her lifelong friend and stood back. “I promise, when this is over, I will find your family and make sure they’re well looked after.”

The head beneath the hood nodded and the two blondes turned to the door to make their way through the castle, down to the courtyard. With her orders already memorised, the maid disappeared into the crowd as all eyes fixed on Emma.

A hush fell on those around the queen as she cut a path through them, her intense green eyes finding theirs with reassurance and a hand occasionally falling on a shoulder, letting them know that she appreciated the magnitude of what each of them gave with their dedication. She wanted them to feel like they were all part of a larger, stronger machine and not simply a cog in a wheel. Forgettable. Dispensable.

Emma strode to where her father was already seated on his mount and reached to grasp his arm. “Swift riding, father,” she told him as her hand squeezed around tense muscle. They’d already said their more personal goodbyes that morning. This one was as much for show as anything – a picture of strength for their soldiers to keep as they rode out.

One of the younger squires led a fully battle-ready Bracken over and Emma swung effortlessly into the saddle. She turned to face Captain Briggs and his troops, her arm reaching out to grasp his in a firm shake. “Good luck,” she told him and raised her voice over the heads of the closest soldiers. “We will see you all back here for a victory celebration when we have liberated Snow White’s kingdom!”

A rousing cry flew through the crowd before the captain led them out of the castle grounds to begin their march and meet up with the rest of their company. Volunteers who could be spared from protecting the villages had been told to assemble in a clearing just shy of the edge of the kingdom’s borders and were likely anxious to get started.

Emma’s troops were next to march from the castle, with Lieutenant Fowler and the queen leading them in the opposite direction from the captain, along the path Princess Emma had travelled prior to her wedding three years ago. Relief filled her to be heading out at last. Now, when she imagines Regina at Cora’s mercy, she doesn’t have to stop herself from grabbing her armour and racing off to the rescue; she’s on her way and being able to act means that she feels useful again.

They reached their camp well before midday. Fearing an attack from Cora’s minions if they stayed overnight, they were compromising by taking a couple of hours from late morning to sleep in shifts. By making the entire journey in just one day, they hoped to maximise on the element of surprise, but they couldn’t risk sending tired soldiers in to fight. Theirs would be an attack of distraction not endurance, but they still needed to be prepared to last into the night and possibly even the following day.

When they were all fed and refreshed, the soldiers moved into formation with their eyes and hopes firmly fixed on the blonde at the head of their charge. She’d chosen to don her helmet already and it gave the troops a swelling sense of pride to know that their queen was prepared to put her life on the line for them.

Lieutenant Fowler raised his sword and pointed it forward, instructing all behind him to move out. Standards flapped in the breeze, waving a crowned sheaf of wheat on a field of purple and heralding the procession on the last leg of their journey.

In the shadows of a dense crop of trees, hidden beneath cloak and hood, Queen Emma watched her brave people march out of sight.

* * * * *

Regina felt her mother’s approach before the bolt on the dungeon door snapped open. Not two hours ago, a guard had caught her meditating and demanded to know why she was glowing. Her refusal to answer had bought her some time – he wouldn’t dare to hurt her without her mother’s express permission – but she knew her reticence would not stop him from reporting the incident to Cora. Since that moment, she’d waited on tenterhooks.

Snow’s lingering guilt from falling asleep on the job had done nothing to calm her trepidation. Those glassy, brown eyes and trembling lip were just reminders of a time long past, when every last pout meant that she was expected to bend over backwards to give everything to the girl who’d ruined her life. As the sound of heels on stone echoed around her, she tried to bring her thoughts back under control.

“Mother,” she greeted the woman with mock politeness.

Cora ignored the token and studied her daughter for several tense seconds before turning to the guard behind her. “Bring her upstairs,” she ordered and swept back the way she’d come.

Years of masking her emotions gave Regina the strength not to struggle as beefy hands seized her arms and forced her from her cell. She ignored Snow’s whimpering pleas and counted her steps with every breath, pausing between each in- and exhale to calm her racing heart. _Treat it as another opportunity to practise,_ she told herself in an effort to focus on the practical side of things. _Like working around the brat’s endless complaints; let it in, and then figure out how to let it go._

This was easier said than done when faced with the person who should have loved and supported her the most, but who’d openly used her as a tool – a means to grab power. It didn’t help either that she still held out the tiniest bit of hope that reconciliation was possible between them. Though, to snap herself out of her doubts, she only had to think about Emma and what would be lost if she gave in to her childish need to beg for a mommy who loved her. The image of Cora’s hand in her wife’s chest had stayed close to the forefront of her mind since the ambush in the woods, and it was powerful enough to stop any other thought in its tracks.

“You have been trying to use your magic to break the cuff,” Cora said as soon as they reached their destination. Remnants of Snow and Charming still clung to the large office space, but already, Cora’s more decadent style covered every available surface, magnifying her presence. “Do you really think that you have enough power to escape me?”

Those steely depths homed in on Regina and held her in their grip. She knew what was coming. Had seen that look in her mother’s eyes often enough to know that she was soon to be taught a valuable lesson about obedience and control. About power and who had it.

Childhood memories filled her mind. Days when she’d been too hungry to sleep…

_“Did you think you could steal food from my kitchen and I wouldn’t notice?”_

…when she was clumsy and broke things…

_“Did you think you could hide from me and I wouldn’t track you down?”_

…when there was too much work and not enough hours in the day…

_“Did you think you could shirk your duties and I wouldn’t find out?”_

Regina was no longer a child though and no longer powerless. She had to think fast. Cora would expect her to resist – at first. She would play along; wait until she’d put up a reasonable amount of fight before showing her hand. Or at least, pretend to. She was fairly confident that light magic could break the cuff; she had felt it weakening in the last few hours and its hold on her was brittle. What she needed right now though was just enough magic to put on a show, but not enough to give her mother cause for concern. She hoped that Cora couldn’t tell the difference between a fireball made from dark magic and one made from light.

“It matters not. I will never stop trying to get away from you,” she told the rigid woman before her. “Whether or not the effort proves futile.” As expected, she watched a hand rise, painted nails reaching towards her.

“You never learn. Well, dear,” she smiled darkly. “Just remember that you brought this on yourself.”

The first squeeze of magic around her chest knocked the air out of her. She tried to calm her mind, to slow her heart and make the oxygen in her body last longer. At the same time, she allowed panic to reach her eyes and channelled a spark into her right hand. It wasn’t difficult to appear desperate while doing this, particularly since her mother seemed to think that she deserved to be tortured longer than usual.

When the tightness did release, she fell to her knees and gulped in as much air as she could without hyperventilating. _She is going to kill me,_ came her first thought, once she could think clearly again. Almost immediately behind it, she felt anger and frustration. She allowed them to fill her up, and then… let them go. As she regained her footing, her gaze landed on Cora’s face and for perhaps the first time in her life, she met those dead eyes without flinching.

“I do believe you are attempting to deceive me,” Cora tutted with false mildness. If she was surprised by her daughter’s defiance, she hid it well.

The second attack, Regina was prepared for – the shock of finding herself unable to breathe not quite so panic inducing, but this time, the pressure didn’t flatten out; Cora continued to squeeze even as her daughter began to turn blue and only relented when a burst of flame erupted from both of Regina’s hands and a breathless cry of pain tore from her throat.

Not even her knees could hold her up this time and the dark queen found herself eye-level with the floral rug, her arms wrapped around her ribs and tears leaking from her eyes. She hated crying in front of her mother; it felt like failure and Cora’s smug voice did nothing to dissuade her of that feeling.

“I did warn you, Regina.” Cora stalked the room as she sneered down at the fallen queen, her eyes full of disgust. “I do not know why you bother to keep fighting me. Your wife has yet to mount a rescue; she seems content to play queen without you, and despite your efforts to improve your focus, you are no match for me. You are pathetic and I can hardly believe that anyone ever feared you.” She stopped and cocked her head to one side with an accompanying sigh. “The Evil Queen truly is dead. Such a shame. She and I might have had so much fun together.”

When Regina was dumped back in her cell, she made an effort to crawl onto her cot before motivation left her and she crumbled into silent tears. Any effort from Snow to get her attention was summarily ignored and eventually she fell into a fitful sleep, thoughts of Emma sitting heavy on her mind.

* * * * *

 _“She seems content to play queen without you…”_ – her mother’s words continued to echo in her mind as she returned to consciousness and, to her horror, found that there were still tears slipping from beneath her eyelids. It took several minutes for her common sense to kick in and remind her not to trust anything that came out of Cora’s mouth. She’d done it herself many times – used a person’s insecurities against them; seeded doubt in their hearts.

Hadn’t Cora proved just a few days ago that Emma’s magic had protected her heart – something it could only do with love? And hadn’t Emma proved her affection time and again with more than just words? If the blonde queen was taking her time to launch an attack/rescue, it could only be to their advantage. If Emma was putting her own desires aside to better plan, Regina had hope that they had a chance at defeating her mother for good.

She’d come no closer to figuring out how Cora had kept her youthful appearance for so long, but at the very least, she was sure she’d discovered the key to her new powers. Though she’d been mostly occupied with trying not to die, hanging in mid-air had given her more than enough time to scope her mother’s office to look for objects that were out of place. Snow might have awful taste in décor, but Regina was sure that her former step-daughter would never hang the petrified remains of various magical creatures on her wall, and especially not in the shape of a crown.

Regina thanked her stars that she’d been an avid reader for most of her life. While her mother had been very selective with the things that she allowed her daughter to read, Rumpelstiltskin – undoubtedly by design – often left tomes of the darkest ilk just lying around for her curious gaze to land on. Dark Items of Legend had had pictures to accompany its descriptions and several chapters had piqued the young apprentice’s interest. Apparently, she and her mother thought alike when they pictured conquering people and kingdoms because the calumnious coronet, or Crown of Bones, was one object in particular that Regina had dreamed about finding.

The crown twisted those around the wearer – gradually stripping them of their humanity. The perfect minions with which a sorceress might crush her enemies. Regina had spent long hours imagining Snow and her insipid prince at the mercy of an army of her making. Some days it was all she could think about.

Those days were gone now though. The twinge of nostalgia she felt from her musings was swiftly swallowed up by the numerous, unremarkable, everyday tasks of the last few years. While not dark or exciting, Regina knew that she would trade every moment of her hunt for Snow White for an hour spent in Emma’s company – no matter what they were doing together. She didn’t care if she was weak for feeling that way. She didn’t care what her mother thought of her continuing need for love and affection. Much as she still wanted a mother who wasn’t a power-hungry megalomaniac, she was content to have found a place in the world with people who did enjoy her company, and who did respect her needs.

People for whom she would readily give her life.

Snow’s renewed grumbling eventually cut through her lingering self-pity and Regina sat up gingerly, one hand held against her aching ribs. “Snow, much as I was never invested in being any kind of parent to you, I do wish I had taught you to whine less.”

The White queen’s face both crumpled and brightened at the criticism. She’d been alone in her own dungeon for far too long and fear gripped her at the thought that she might have to endure that state again. She never had coped well with being ignored in any fashion. “Are you alright, Regina?”

With a sigh, the dark queen nodded. “It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before,” she admitted, to their equal surprise. Emma and Abigail were the only two people she trusted well enough to burden with the pains of her past, and even those incidences were rare. She hadn’t thought anything could ever entice her to open up to her life-long enemy again.

They sat in subdued silence for several long minutes before Snow sniffled and dragged in a long breath. “I’m sorry, Regina,” she blurted with quick but soft tones, as if she wanted to get the words out without being scolded. When her neighbour didn’t comment, she felt emboldened and continued to empty her thoughts into the tense atmosphere, hating how they ate at her insides. “It’s taken a long time for me to understand why you didn’t want your mother to know about… about him. She’s a monster. I can’t begin to imagine what it was like for you growing up with her.”

As years of rage tried to claw its way to the surface, Regina was quiet for some time after. Tears welled again and she closed her eyes tightly to keep them from falling; she was afraid that if she let them out, she wouldn’t know how to make them stop again. Thankfully, Snow took the hint and kept her mouth shut, giving the sorceress time to process.

It took a while to get her breathing under control and to channel her thoughts so that fear and anger didn’t dominate them. Several times, she repeated her process of feeling and then letting go of each emotion, but the box marked ‘Snow White’s Betrayal’ was deep, heavy and brimming with unresolved feelings. Because remembering Daniel had always hurt so much, she actively avoided doing it. The months spent in bed, mourning and feeling sorry for herself had helped to release some of the pressure – enough so that she could begin to put the pieces of her life back together again – but years of twisted and tangled feelings weren’t resolved so easily and it took some time before she could breathe the last of her immediate anger away, leaving her drained and oddly empty.

Regina turned to look through the bars of her cell and found Snow picking morosely at the fringe of her already thread-bare blanket. She sighed, closed her eyes to wonder for a moment if she really wanted to say what sat on the tip of her tongue, and then coughed lightly to pull the woman’s attention her way. Worried hazel zoned in on her and looked on expectantly.

“You didn’t kill him… Daniel,” Regina croaked with effort. Her eyes strayed for several seconds before meeting Snow’s again. “You were a spoiled brat and a busy body who couldn’t keep a secret…” she watched the colour rise in pale cheeks and cracked a pained smile. “… but you did what you did because you wanted me to be happy. You wanted to help.”

Snow sniffed and nodded. “I should have listened to you.”

“Yes, you should have,” Regina agreed readily. “But you could not have known how terrible my mother was. I was powerless against too many people and I took that out on you.” She stared up at the ceiling for a moment to rein in her spiralling thoughts again. “You were the catalyst, but not the cause.” And then, before she could stop herself, she found her former enemy’s gaze and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

It was hard to tell who was more surprised, Snow – for finally gaining forgiveness from the Evil Queen, or Regina – who felt only a slight tingling as the cuff around her wrist glowed white and fell off. They both stared at it, hard, as they blinked away tears.


	21. Fancy Meeting You Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments! I'm enjoying these daily posts; they give me something to look forward to every morning.

Regina’s eyes shot to the guards to see if they’d noticed, but the pair were still intent on their drinks and knuckle-bones. Her conversation with Snow, though intense, had been very hushed and thankfully, not interesting enough to draw attention. The White Queen’s stricken features brightened instantly and Regina had to put a finger to her lips to remind the woman not to cause a scene.

Snow’s head snapped round and her body tensed. She looked back at her neighbour sheepishly but met an exasperated eyeroll with a smile rather than a frown. Her body and mind felt considerably lighter after Regina’s apology. Hope surged through her at the thought that they were going to escape and she shuffled closer to the bars.

“You have your magic?”

“I’m not sure I would call it _my_ magic,” the dark queen answered.

The magic that now surged beneath her skin felt unfamiliar. It was powerful and more instinctual than her dark magic had ever been – like trying on a well-fitted coat in a style completely unlike what you were used to. With barely even a conscious thought about her hunger, she conjured a handful of baked goods from the kitchen. Snow’s eyes widened comically and Regina slipped one into the other woman’s hand before hiding all but one beneath her pillow. Hungry as they were, she knew they wouldn’t have much problem eating the small bounty and with each of them taking turns as lookout, there was barely a crumb left at the end of an hour.

During that hour, Regina practised conjuring items from the bedroom she shared with Emma and sending them back again. At first, she doubted her ability to reach so far. Snow suggested starting with nick-nacks from _her_ bedroom just a few floors away, but Regina was reluctant to draw attention to herself on the off chance that someone saw objects disappearing and reappearing. She was already concerned about her pantry raid. She knew the layout of her own possessions and could picture them clearly, so she didn’t see the harm in trying.

The distance made her task much harder but, unlike when Rumpelstiltskin began teaching her to weaponize her hatred, she found that her instincts didn’t actively work against her. It was as if _this_ was how she was meant to channel her powers all along.

Regina was in the middle of her third nap of the day when a commotion from the stairway and above broke into her dream and dragged her back to reality. She was on her feet in seconds and at the bars of her cell to stare along the corridor.

Excited and frantic shouting came from above, the door to the dungeon opening and slamming shut several times as soldiers passed messages to the jailors and left again in a hurry.

Snow and the ex-Evil Queen shared a look that communicated the same hope: help was on its way. They caught words like ‘rebels’ and ‘massing from the southern caves’. Not long after, it was ‘the king’ and ‘riding from the north’. There was no mention of Emma, but Regina took heart from the lack of information on her wife. It meant that the attack had been carefully planned for a surprise flanking strike. The Summer Palace was protected from a siege by water on three sides, but it left Cora’s forces outside the castle less opportunity to retreat and if Emma could get behind them…

BANG!

The door flew open at the top of the stairs and Cora appeared. Her usual, formal dress had been replaced by something almost skin tight and dipped in shadow, and atop her head sat the Crown of Bones. A cloak rippled behind her as she descended into the miserable dankness and she appeared to glide along on nothing but air until she reached her daughter’s cell. The long-awaited assault had begun and she wasn’t about to miss the chance to crow a little before crushing her enemies into fine dust.

“Your wife, it seems, has not abandoned you after all,” she taunted silkily. She watched the dance of emotions behind her child’s eyes and revelled in the knowledge that she could crush the tentative hope she found with just a few words. “She is more cunning than I had anticipated – I will give her credit there – but unfortunately for her, I have scouts all along the eastern road.” As worry grew on Regina’s features – carefully controlled but still very present – Cora smirked. “You should be happy, dear; I’m giving you what you’ve always wanted – a family. I will be bringing your broodmare home to roost and within a couple of years, we will have a dynasty with which to rule.”

As her mother swept out of the dungeon on her mission, Regina clutched a hand to her stomach and tried to swallow the bile in her mouth. She felt sick at the thought of her mother’s latest ‘improvement’ to her plan.

“Regina?” Snow prodded – her voice tremulous.

“Yes,” the dark queen answered, knowing exactly what her former enemy was asking with that one word. “We cannot linger any longer. We must find Emma and defeat my mother once and for all.”

With that, she slipped the cuff from her wrist for the last time and placed a hand over the lock on her cell door.

* * * * *

A cloud of white smoke dissipated as Emma appeared in a small clearing just short of her childhood home. “I did it!” she whispered to herself with a mix of surprise, relief and pride.

She wouldn’t admit it to Regina but that week spent being tortured by her wife – pushed to the very limits of her endurance – had gone a long way to preparing her for this mission. Their training had only just touched on transportation before the brunette’s disappearance, but she had taken it seriously and listened to every piece of advice that Regina had to give on the subject. Distance, mass of transportees and knowledge of the journey. Being a novice still and remembering Regina’s exhaustion after their first escape from Cora, Emma had known from the outset that this would have to be a solo journey.

After watching her army disappear, she teleported to her first destination just shy of the border. From beneath her hood, she scouted the area, ate to replenish her energy and found a dense thicket to crawl into for a quick rest. For the next couple of hours, she repeated this process, until her journey brought her to her last stop here, a little-known beauty spot that she’d played in as a child.

Once, while hiding from her father, she’d stumbled upon a path that wound partially down the cliff and along the rock face beneath the palace walls. Being the adventurous child she was, she’d manage to make her way half way round before David spotted her and called her back. He’d forbidden her from endangering herself again by exploring there, but it hadn’t stopped her from scouring the library and her mother’s office for the blue prints to her home.

As it turned out, had she walked the entire path, she would have found herself at the narrow mouth of a tunnel which led up into the dungeons. An exciting prospect for a child, but a vital piece of information for someone who wanted to sneak in or out without passing too many guards.

From the position of the sun, she knew she was on track with her timing. Her father and Captain Briggs would be making themselves known soon, and shortly after that, ‘Queen Emma’ would make her appearance. The rebels were to join the fray shortly before anyone else though and should already be engaging Cora’s forces.

The hope was that the commotion would draw the attention of anyone posted on the northern wall, making it easier for the real Emma to slip past unnoticed. Whether the tactic had worked or whether the wall guards were just incompetent, the blonde queen found the trail without too much difficulty and managed to keep out of anyone’s line of sight as she crept closer to her childhood home. Following the path was the easy part, even accounting for where erosion had narrowed the rock to dangerous proportions. The hard part, she discovered, was finding the entrance to the tunnels.

From what she’d read as a child, there was a slim crack in the rockface approximately two thirds along the north-east part of the curtain wall. The problem was that it was very difficult to work out proportions when one was pressed up against the cliff. Emma walked back and forth along the path, carefully at first and then with increasing desperation as her search brought her up short. _What if I don’t find it?_ she began to think after her seventh pass. _What if it’s been caved in and there’s no way into the castle?_ Her thoughts turned to her wife and tears welled at the idea of being so close and yet so far away from the woman she loved.

As her mind filled with Regina – images of the brunette’s smile, of morning kisses and her warm embrace – Emma’s magic flickered to life without command and reached out for the dark queen. It tingled from her chest, along her arms and flowed from her hands to join in a continuous stream that bobbed along in the air until it disappeared into the rockface. Buoyed by a surge of hope, the blonde followed and breathed a sigh of relief as she felt along the jagged cliff and slipped her hand into a recess. For a few seconds, she stood and studied the rock. The space into which her magic flowed looked no different to the rest of the surrounding area and she wondered if that detail had been deliberately left out of the castle blue prints. With a shrug and renewed energy, she squeezed her way through the gap and emerged into a narrow passage.

“I’m coming, Regina,” she whispered into the dark. Whisps of magic continued to drift from her fingertips, just visible enough to give her a heading and, without much concern for what might lie ahead, she began to pick her way along the tunnel.

* * * * *

King David was in his element as he slashed through enemy soldiers and beastly minions with each rotation of his arm. Politics had never enticed him to be at his best but this, battling for his true love and his kingdom, this breathed life into his soul.

Of course, he raged for each soldier whose life was cut short and his heart ached for their families. He hated himself for having allowed his kingdom to fall so far and vowed to be more attentive to the needs of the people, not continue to assume that his wife and their advisors would handle the complicated paperwork while he focussed mostly on honing his sword-arm. He thought of Emma and glowed with pride at how clever she was, not only with a weapon in her hand, but with all the ins and outs of her position as queen. He could happily say that his influence showed in her ability to fight as well as her best-trained soldiers and that her morals were a direct result of his and Snow’s nurturing natures, but her head for economics, tactics and politics were only strong because of the time Regina had spent in teaching the blonde. Emma had always had the potential to be great, but he and Snow hadn’t pushed her education that way. An oversight he now regretted.

As if all of that wasn’t impressive enough, Charming was more than surprised by his daughter’s innate magical power. When Emma first explained her training to him, he’d assumed that the Evil Queen was steering his child into the darkness, perhaps as a final nail-in-the-coffin for Snow, but not so. Emma was powerful in her own right – born of true love and possessing magic that cut through the blackest of nights. From what she’d shown him, she was obviously new to the craft, but like most things, she put her heart and soul into practising and he knew that she would be a forced to be reckoned with if given the time.

While a part of him enjoyed the physical exertion, he really hoped for a swift resolution to this campaign. It had been far too long since he’d seen his wife, and even before someone had conked him over the head and stuffed him into a sack, their relationship had not been at its best for a long time.

There was no sign of Cora Mills, though Charming’s troops and the rebels were cutting through her forces with relative ease. Her soldiers (or rather, Snow’s ex-soldiers and a few mercenaries) were undisciplined and her minions, though numerous, attacked without cunning or skill. As long as Regina and Emma’s forces remained level-headed and efficient, they would last long enough for Emma to execute her plan.

* * * * *

Regina’s hand hovered over the lock, magic beginning to flow from her palm, when Snow’s panicked ‘wait!’ hissed through the bars.

“What!?” the dark queen hissed back.

“They’ll hear you!” Snow warned, her heart pounding. She saw the expression of confusion on her neighbour’s face and rushed to explain, “What are you planning to do when they come running towards us or raise an alarm? You’ve come so far, Regina; that light magic is only possible because you have love in your heart.”

Near black eyes narrowed. _Still so self-righteous!_ she thought in spite. “You have killed,” she countered stubbornly. “Yet you have never considered yourself to be a villain.”

“I never killed when it could be avoided.” She wanted to add that she’d never taken pleasure in it either but that didn’t seem like the sort of comment that would endear her to her former nemesis.

The ex-Evil Queen rolled her eyes but removed her hand as she stepped back to consider her next move. Wielding light magic might feel comfortable – like a second skin – but curbing her impulse to crush into paste those who annoyed her was an ongoing learning process.

Coming to a decision, she assessed the distance between their cells and the guards’ dice/drinks table and came to the conclusion that her new plan was doable. With a wave of her hand, the air shimmered, erecting a barrier just a foot or two from the cell door.

“They won’t hear us and will only see what they expect to see,” she told her picky neighbour. “It will not fool my mother though, so we should get moving.”

“How are we going to get past them?” Snow wondered as Regina stepped out of her cell and approached to free her from her own cage.

The dark queen’s head cocked to one side as her eyes assessed the pixy-haired queen with incredulity. “You have lived here all your life and have never wondered at its secrets?” _It makes sense,_ she thought to herself as she considered the situation further. _She has never felt the need to escape from her life here._ She couldn’t help but wonder if Emma had missed the hidden passage or if she too had felt a need to know where all the exits were.

With a small shake of her head, she led Snow in the opposite direction to the stairs. After only a dozen steps, she turned toward a door that stood in an alcove and stopped. Brown eyes contemplated the door for the briefest moment, Regina’s mind imagining the horrors that might befall enemies of the crown, if Snow and Charming had the stomach to inflict pain on their foes. She wondered if her mother had used it since her coup, but when that thought threatened to dredge up memories of her evil half and the torture chamber in her own castle, she quickly pushed them away.

Regina shot a quick look back at the oblivious guards before feeling around in a wall crevice. Several seconds passed while her fingers explored, carefully searching for the lever she’d read about so many years ago. Panic grew steadily in the back of her mind as the seconds continued to pass without bearing fruit. Snow jumped at every belch or expletive that echoed around the dungeon from the two guards and Regina felt a sheen of perspiration cover her skin.

At long last, her fingers brushed harder over a slightly bulbous protrusion, which sat at an odd angle above her wrist, and a piece of the wall gave way. Without stopping to second guess herself, she grabbed Snow’s arm and dragged her into the dark.

* * * * *

Cora Mills stood in a tower atop the battlements, her keen eyes scanning the chaos that spread the length and breadth of the land just beyond the castle gates. Far from being concerned by the ease with which her forces were being felled, a twisted smile sat on her thin lips. Snow’s kingdom would be a ruin, a festering cesspool of corruption and poverty by the time she was finished with it. The peasants would have no choice but to accept her leadership and with them cowed – their rebellious kin squashed – there would be no push-back when she demanded their blood for her wars. Regina and Emma’s offspring would learn at her heel; she wouldn’t make the same mistakes that she made with her own ungrateful daughter. They would heed her; they would look up to her and they would carry her to her destiny.

Homing in on Snow’s charming prince, she watched him battle his way through a dozen of her hounds and emerge in a small bubble of calm. His head turned to survey the battle field. She couldn’t see his face clearly but read his body language well enough; he was happy with their progress and confident in his victory. Good.

From outside her little hideaway, the sound of hurried footsteps approached and she turned to the arched entry. “Yes?” she enquired in a deceptively silky tone.

“My lady,” the grizzled man wheezed. “We ambushed her… as you asked… Queen Emma is being brought in now.”

Cora’s smile grew, its malevolence eliciting a nervous gulp from the messenger. “Well? What are you waiting for? Show me to her.”

Cloak billowing behind her, creating an image of an overly large and predatory bat, Cora descended upon the newly-arrived captive. A guard stood on either side of the hooded figure, a hand on either shoulder to force the woman into submission, and the only clear clues to her identity were the few rings of golden hair escaping the hood. The witch smirked, rejoicing for several seconds in her victory and moving closer – so close that her head hovered beside the blonde’s, her thin, painted lips spilling venom with the softest of tones.

“I hope you savoured whatever brief sense of triumph you felt in your attempt to fool me,” Cora began tauntingly. “I have big plans for you, my dear. Regina may have forgotten who she is in favour of chasing a child’s dream, but I will not allow her weaknesses to derail her destiny… or mine.” She inched back slightly and reached for the hood, savouring the moment she would find defeat in the blonde queen’s eyes. “You will submit to me.”

Her claw-like fingers pinched the heavy fabric and peeled it back. High cheekbones and more golden curls met shrewd eyes, as expected, but the cool, challenging green that Cora remembered from their encounter in the forest was entirely absent. Her smirk disappeared faster than lightning. Her nostrils flared and a vein at her temple pulsed threateningly.

“You are not Queen Emma,” she seethed. A quiver of fear shuddered through the room – through guards and the pretender alike. Cora glowered at her incompetent people. “She’s a decoy, you idiots!” Both hands shot out, invisible tendrils wrapping around the throats of the nearest two guards. The snapping of their necks stole the breath from all watching and no one moved as the bodies dropped to the ground. “Get her out of my sight. She can join Snow and my daughter until I’m ready to deal with her.”

Once the fake queen had been escorted from the room, she pinned the remaining men with her terrifying gaze and addressed them with shards of ice in her voice. “Find the _real_ Queen Emma or die trying,” she commanded with a hiss. “If any of you return without her, you will join your friends here.” A bony finger pointed at the dead men as she turned and swept from the room. “And clean those up!”

* * * * *

While Matilda was being dragged non-too-gently to the dungeon, the real Emma continued picking her way carefully along the tunnel beneath the castle and cursing the dark. The narrow space had made her breathing shallow at first. Feeling walls so close on either side, sometimes only a little wider than her shoulders, gave her an uncomfortable sensation of being trapped. She was almost convinced that her next step would find her crushed between tight faces of rock.

Despite her pessimistic thoughts, Emma continued to walk gingerly along, trusting her senses and following the pull of her wife’s magic. It was stronger now and even without light to guide her, she swore she could almost see the thread that flowed out from her body and through the tunnel. When the ground beneath her feet grew smoother and the walls widened until they were a full arm-span apart, her body sagged slightly with relief.

That was the moment when she heard her first signs of life up ahead and knew that she was nearing the entrance to the dungeon. Automatically, she tensed for a fight. Knowing that she had company, her feet froze and her ears strained, trying to see if she could identify the voices up ahead. It was muffled at first - a few querulous notes ebbing and flowing, interspersed with clipped, lower responses without any clarity to the meaning behind the words. As the minutes passed though, she began to catch the odd word and a smile slowly crept onto her lips.

_“… shout… me…”_

_“… pick… your feet…”_

_“… trying!”_

Once she knew who was in the tunnel with her, all concern for her own discomfort vanished. It broke her to have to stand still and let the arguing pair come to her, but she knew that her uncertain steps would spook them and so waited until they were well within earshot to make herself known.

_“… are a queen, do you have no poise?”_

_“I need more light.”_

_“Be grateful that you have any at all; I could insist on conserving my energy and plunge us both back into darkness.” Her voice lowered to an irritated grumble. “I could render you mute and would not consider it a waste though.”_

Emma chuckled to herself and decided that it was time. A ball of ethereal light floated a few feet in front of the approaching queens and she could just make out their figures emerging from a bend in the path. “Regina?” she called, not so loud as to terrify her mother, but not so quiet that she would be unrecognisable.

“Who was that!?” Snow blurted, wondering who on earth would address the Evil Queen with such reverence in their tone.

Regina knew it immediately though and felt every muscle in her body tense with hope. “Emma?”

Unable to stop herself, the blonde sprang back to life and approached. “It’s me,” she confirmed and then continued to babble, feeling like she hadn’t seen her wife in a lot longer than a few days. “I’m sorry it took so long. I wanted to ride out as soon as I knew you were gone, but we had to plan and wait for supplies and…” She reached her targets and threw herself at Regina, head burying itself in the crook of a neck. Words of explanation, of apology continued to tumble from her mouth as tears of relief welled behind her eyelids. When she managed to find her breath again, she pulled back just enough to study the face of her beloved. “I found you,” she whispered. Momentarily oblivious to her mother’s presence, she dipped her head and recovered Regina’s mouth with her own.

Ordinarily, those three insipid words would have pulled a sneer to the dark queen’s lips, but not this time. She only had eyes for Emma and sank into the embrace like coming home.

They broke for air and Emma felt more tears filling her vision. “I’m… so… sorry…” she whispered between kisses. Regina barely let her get a word out – her growing smile swallowing each attempt at an apology until they were merely leaning against each other, half-laughing and half-crying with relief.

Rejoicing in Emma’s words and in the fact that the blonde cared enough to look for her in the first place, Regina needed a moment to rein in her feelings before she could face the world again. She could feel Snow’s eyes boring holes into the back of her head, but the feel of her wife’s arms around her was too good to give up just yet. The impatient queen apparently disagreed though and cleared her throat once… twice… and then a third time with an added foot-stamp.

The dark queen drew in a long breath before turning slowly, glowering. “Remind me to be as considerate of your feelings when Charming is within your arms’ reach,” she hissed at Snow until the woman took the hint and mumbled a low ‘sorry’. She felt Emma’s hand slip into her own and squeeze in comfort.

“Hello, mother,” the blonde greeted the needy queen. She made no move to get closer or more familiar and noticed the disappointment on Snow’s face even in the dim light. “I’m glad you’re safe,” she added in conciliation.

“Emma,” Snow began, her voice quivering. “I hope you know that I wasn’t myself when you visited this past year. You tried so hard to bring us back from the brink and I did nothing to help you.”

The young queen nodded non-committedly. Perhaps when they found themselves victorious on the other side of this awful situation, she could find the strength to listen to her mother’s side of the story and find the will to forgive, but until then, she just needed to deal with fighting Cora and crushing her uprising. Knowing her mother though, she wouldn’t let it go until she had a satisfactory answer.

“We’ll sit down and have a nice, long talk when this is all over, alright?” she added, hoping that her words would have the right effect. When Snow reluctantly nodded, Emma felt her heart clench and sighed as she stepped forward and pulled her mother into a quick hug. Compared to Regina’s embrace, this one felt awkward and stiff, but it seemed to do the job and she pulled back to find a smile where a worried frown had been. “Much as I’d like to enjoy this reunion a little more, time is at a premium.”

“What is your plan?” Regina asked.

Emma explained the four-pronged attack with her maid as a decoy and her father leading the main force. Two sets of eyes studied her closely, one pair with pride and the other with almost total shock. “I had hoped to find you unharmed,” she continued as she reached once more for her wife’s hand. “Despite your teaching efforts, I wasn’t confident in my ability to defeat your mother on my own.”

Regina’s eyes unfocussed for a moment as her mind pictured the scene and the carnage that came with that thought. “No,” she began absently. “You have great potential, and I am pleased with what you have managed in my absence, but she is a master manipulator and I’m not sure that either of us is ready to face that alone.”

“So, you teleported here?” Snow wondered aloud, her brain still catching up with what she was hearing. “How did you know about this tunnel?”

“I travelled partly by magic,” Emma answered with as much patience as she could muster. “But I had to rest a lot on the way. As for the tunnel, I found the path years ago, when Dad took me out to explore the forest. I wandered off and found it. The blueprints were still in the library then.”

Regina caught the inflection in the blonde’s voice and raised a brow. “ _Were_?”

Emma grinned sheepishly. “I studied them a lot, but didn’t want anyone to know, so I hid them in my room.”

Snow’s expression said that she didn’t understand why her daughter would need to know such information or why she would want to hide her interest from her mother but, for once, she refrained from commenting. “Well, we should join your father and see what we can do to help.”

Regina exchanged a look with her wife. “Snow, far be it from me to burst your delusional bubble, but neither you nor David are in charge here.” She glanced again at Emma, wary of a negative response to her harsh words, but all she found was a wan smile.

Snow’s mouth opened and closed in shock. “Emma…”

The blonde queen held her hand up to halt the beginnings of an argument. “Mom, we’re not going back for Dad. He has an army behind him and a whole group of rebels up there, keeping Cora’s forces busy, but we won’t defeat her with swords or arrows.” She looked at Regina and reached out to lay a hand on her wife’s hip. “We have to fight fire with fire; magic with magic. I only hope that together, we are enough.”

Warm, brown sparkled with knowing. “We will be,” Regina assured her love. “I have a few new tricks to share with you…”


	22. To Kill A Witch

Snow continued to pout as she was left alone, watching her daughter and her former nemesis disappear back into the darkness of the tunnel. They’d gone so far as to escort her to the exit, where a narrow shaft of light would keep her from panicking and give her the option of finding her way into the woods if needed, but they’d flatly refused to let her accompany them back into the castle and the rejection hurt.

_“But I can help,” she pleaded once Emma unveiled her plan to ambush Cora from within the castle walls. She was still pouting over the outfit that her ex-step mother had chosen for her – a drab collection of leather more suited to a man toiling the fields, and all in brown. Next to Emma’s regal armour and Regina’s conjured combination of rustic red, she felt… common – a reminder of when she’d been forced to live in the woods. What she wouldn’t give for her stately robes. “Surely, three of us against one are better odds.” The couple exchanged another of their infuriatingly secret looks though, clearly not agreeing with her._

_“You will only serve to be a liability, Snow,” Regina insisted bluntly._

_Emma’s voice was equally serious, but was at least softer. “Mom, I know that you would do everything in your power to fight her; to repay her for what she’s done to you and your people; to protect me from whatever she plans to do next… But you need to know your weaknesses as much as you know your strengths.”_

_“What…?” The pixy-haired queen shook her head. She was a queen and a good person. What weaknesses?_

_“Cora will target you the second she has a chance because you are one of_ my _weaknesses,” the blonde tried to explain. “You have many strengths, but you have no defence against her magic, which means that we will be distracted by trying to protect you.”_

_“She will use that to her advantage, Snow.” Regina had had enough of trying to cajole her former step-daughter into listening to her wisdom, but she made a concerted effort to bite back the vitriol that she was used to throwing at the woman. What would she do in Snow’s place? Could she let Emma wander off into battle without her? “Whether you like it or not, the best way that you can help is to stay hidden. In a way, you have the hardest part to play in this fight,” she added, almost kindly. “It is imperative that you do not fall into her clutches again. Emma and I would find ourselves at a serious disadvantage with you in the crosshairs.”_

_Snow’s stubborn frown shifted ever so slightly. “You would risk yourself for me?” Even after Regina’s recent act of compassion, of forgiveness, she was surprised by the thought._

_“… Yes,” the dark sorceress confessed reluctantly. “If not for you or myself, then I would do it for Emma.” Her gaze turned on her wife. “I would do it for love.”_

It was those words and the corresponding sparkle in her daughter’s eyes which made Snow relent. She didn’t like it. In fact, as she paced in the shadows and occasionally stuck her head out to reassure herself that she was no longer a prisoner, a voice – not too deep inside – begged her to move, to do something; anything, to help her family. Several times, she almost gave in, even going so far as to walk along the cliff path before changing her mind and returning to her little hide.

Regina had been absolutely right; she did have the hardest job. Previous years of inactivity and lack of attention were born out of ignorance not an unwillingness to help. She always felt like she _was_ helping whenever difficulties arose and the people had always seemed to love her for her quick action. It was only just dawning on her, despite Emma’s many lectures on the subject, that her choices had not had the desired effect. Smiles on faces in the short term had hidden greater problems beneath. The full scale of those problems had yet to be realised.

And so, she stayed. And waited. And thought. And for perhaps the first time in her life, she considered her mistakes and what she might do to change.

* * * * *

After explaining her success with the suppressant cuff and demonstrating the change in her powers, Regina felt her confidence surge. Emma's eyes filled with pride and tears before she pushed her wife against the wall of the tunnel and captured the dark queen's lips in a kiss that made their toes curl. A soft halo of white surrounded the couple as they broke apart and shared a brief, peaceful smile.

Regina led Emma back along the tunnel, finding the return journey much faster when she enjoyed the company. They spoke mostly of business, of the battle waging above and their plans on tackling Cora. But since leaving Snow behind, doubt slowly crept back into her thoughts again. As they neared the entrance to the dungeon, the brunette slowed and pulled her wife closer.

“Emma,” she half-whispered as her eyes tracked over the blonde’s features and drank her in. “She is going to try to tear us apart,” she warned. Her gaze fell on pink lips and her fingers crested twin shoulders to sink into the stiff leather that crawled out from her lightly-armoured pauldron. They held tight, her knuckles turning white with the effort and she found herself thinking ever so briefly about simply staying there in the dark tunnel, where Emma was alive and they were not at risk of imminent death. “I just want you to be prepared. She will not show either of us mercy.” She swallowed thickly, becoming very aware that she was giving advice that she was going to struggle with herself. “If it comes to a choice between protecting me and defeating her, I trust that you will choose the latter.”

Emma’s eyes darkened at the thought and searched around in the gloom for a target at which to direct her ire. It didn’t last long though; she knew why Regina had pulled her aside to have this conversation now. They would probably only get this one shot at taking Cora down without many more casualties. Their kingdom and Snow’s depended on them putting their own safety and happiness aside for the sake of the people. When her gaze eventually wandered back to Regina’s, she saw fear even through her wife’s expert mask. Most other people would probably have mistaken the dark edge for anger, but she knew Regina well enough to recognise the difference, and if she could see it, Cora definitely would.

Her hands covered the brunette’s for a moment before migrating up to trace the usually expressive features that she’d come to love so much. “I will do my best, I promise,” she replied dutifully. “I will not allow the people to suffer any more than they have. But…”

“No,” Regina interrupted before she could hear the qualifier. “There can be no ‘buts’, Emma. No hesitation. She will…” A thumb landed gently on her lips, preventing any further protest.

“I know, Regina. I understand. But,” she tried again, forcefully. “I fully believe that we can beat her, together.” She recalled Cora’s words from their encounter in the forest and knew instinctively where her wife’s fear stemmed from. “Listen, she believes that love is weakness and I know that she wants you to believe it too, but she’s wrong. Love is strength.” Brown depths wandered away, doubt filling them until Emma’s hand cupped her cheek and gently forced them back again. “ _Fear_ makes us weak, Regina. Not love. Love gives us the strength to fight even the toughest of battles. Fear makes us burn bridges before we’ve even built them.

“We will win because we have the thing your mother fears most. We have love.” She drew the brunette into a soft kiss that lingered long enough for a warm glow to engulf them. “As long as we remember that, we can’t lose.”

Regina nodded, knowing deep down that Emma was right, but letting go of a lifetime of belief was easier said than done. “That week I spent torturing you?”

Emma grimaced at the memory. “Yes?”

“I was trying to teach you to know your limits and not let your ego lead you into situations for which you were not prepared.” The brunette studied her wife for several, long seconds as a smile grew at the corners of her mouth. “As much as your mother irritates my every nerve with her boundless optimism, I do feel that a weight has been lifted since forgiving her. I think perhaps I was more in need of a lesson.” She focussed magic into her hands, which shone brightly against Emma’s breastplate. “It comes so naturally now. I have you to thank for that.”

“So, we’re agreed?” Emma asked tentatively. She didn’t really need to hear the words; Regina had made the connection, whether she admitted it aloud or not. All Emma needed was confirmation that they were mentally ready to go.

Regina rolled her eyes and pushed at her wife’s torso, feeling some of her old confidence returning. Except this time, her heart didn’t ache with the effort. Without the darkness eating at her soul, self-assurance no longer weighed her down but gave her a sense of floating on air. As foreign as it was, she couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her mouth. “We are in agreement. We will not fall.”

Knowing that it might be a while before she had another opportunity to do so, Regina wrapped her arms around the blonde queen’s neck and captured her lips for several, long seconds. Then, with a plan in mind, they slipped as quietly as possible back into the dungeon.

The first thing the brunette noticed was the complete lack of noise from the table of guards. Having spent the best part of the last week in their company, she’d grown used to the constant racket of their movements. The silence, though infinitely preferable, sent a chill along her spine, but the interrogation room, which had previously held only phantoms of the tortured, now cried softly.

Without a sound, the couple simultaneously checked around the corner and through the keyhole at the door. Emma gasped at the sight of her maid in shackles and waited with baited breath. Regina answered her wife’s quizzical look with a shake of her head and decided that it was safe to talk.

“My mother must have ordered a new prisoner down here after Snow and I escaped,” she whispered. “I have no idea where the guards are but if I have to guess, they either went to report our disappearance to my mother or have fled to escape her wrath.”

“We don’t have long if they’ve chosen to face the beast,” Emma noted dryly. “We need to get Tilly out of here before we head up then.”

Regina frowned. “Tilly is the decoy?” she wondered before shaking her head. Now was not the time to get into it. “If she is down here then Mother knows that you have another attack planned. She will be looking for you everywhere.” Her hand hovered over the lock and they both winced when a loud ‘clunk’ echoed through the empty cavern.

Emma was the first through the door and had to force back tears of relief when she found her maid mostly unharmed. “Tilly,” she whispered, her voice hitching with overflowing emotion. “It’s ok. We’re getting you out.”

Matilda’s expression was one of abject shock. She had barely been here half an hour and already she was being rescued. The entire time she’d played the part of Queen Emma, she had managed to convince herself that she was brave and strong, but the moment Cora had uncovered her deception, she’d done nothing but fear for her life. “Your majesties,” she sobbed quietly. She felt the shackles release from around her wrists and fell into her old friend, allowing the blonde’s arms to keep her steady for a while.

“It’s ok, Tilly,” Emma repeated soothingly. Guilt wanted to eat at her for putting the maid in this position in the first place, but thinking like that would not help any of them. She thought back to the conversation they’d had before leaving their castle; Tilly needed to be a part of this mission as much as anyone; both kingdoms had a vested interest in defeating Cora. “You’ve done well, my friend. I wish I could give you more time to recover, but I have a new task for you.”

Matilda sniffed and drew in several short breaths as she pulled herself together and stood tall. Waiting for further orders and feeling some of her confidence returning, she nodded. The battle wasn’t over yet and she was determined to do whatever it took to help free Snow’s kingdom from its tyrant. “I’m ready, your majesty.”

Emma hid a smile as pride filled her. “My mother is in hiding, waiting for the end of the battle. We have asked her to stay hidden, to keep herself in the shadows so that Cora cannot use her against us again, but I worry that she will struggle to do this alone. Will you find her please and keep her from acting out any heroic urges she may have?”

An expression of pain and reluctance fell over the maid’s features. “That is a tall order, your majesty.”

Regina huffed in amusement. “Indeed. I do not envy you your task.” She waved a hand in the air and a small pouch appeared. “Take this. It contains a powder extracted from the seed of the poppy. If Snow becomes too unreasonable and you feel that you have no other option, we give you permission to knock her out. You are under orders to keep the queen safe, even from herself. Understand?”

Matilda nodded again and took the pouch with a mixture of trepidation and relief. “I understand. Where will I find her?”

Regina led her from the interrogation room and showed her the entrance to the tunnel. She waved her hand in another complicated gesture and released a bubble of something that sounded like chattering. They all watched as it shot into the dark and the older queen turned back to find matching expressions of curiosity directed at her. “It is a carrier; it will let Snow know that Matilda is joining her.” Feeling time ticking away much too fast, she explained what the maid might find down in the tunnel and helped her to get her footing on the first step. “Matilda, before you go, did you happen to hear what the guards planned to do when they left you in the dungeon?”

Tilly’s eyes glazed over as she thought back. Fear had been her prevailing thought, but she’d been aware enough to know that she wasn’t the only one. “They argued. When they brought me down the stairs, we could see you and Queen Snow in the last cells, but as we passed, you disappeared. They panicked, chained me up and then shouted at each other for a while. Not one of them wanted to face your mother.”

“Thank you, Matilda,” Regina replied gratefully. “I will send you with a light. It is not much and it may go out if my reserves are depleted any time soon, but it will help you find your way.”

Matilda wanted to refuse the gift, to tell the queen to save her reserves, but when she stared into the black hold beneath her, she knew that she needed it. “Thank you, your majesty. I wish you both luck but I’m sure you won’t need it. Together, you will wipe the floor with her.”

Emma chuckled at the colourful language and squeezed her friend’s shoulder one last time before they parted and closed the secret passage from prying eyes.

The eerie quiet of the dungeon continued up the stairs onto the ground floor. Regina and Emma crept along, listening for signs of movement as they advanced towards Snow’s office. Before confronting Cora, Regina wanted first to know whether her mother was wearing her Crown of Bones or if they might be lucky enough to find it unprotected. They liked their chances of winning much better if they could first destroy the crown but from the moment they stepped inside, they knew they were out of luck on this occasion.

“It’s not here,” the brunette hissed in frustration. She felt her wife’s hand slip into hers and closed her eyes to control the urge she had to smash something. As they opened again, her gaze drifted over to a pedestal and fell on an ornate wooden box. Moving on instinct, she wandered over and opened it to find a leather pouch inside. She knew without touching it that there was a protection spell and she hovered over the box, inspecting the magic cautiously.

“Regina, this doesn’t change anything. Our victory was not hinged on finding it,” Emma reminded her. She turned to the door, wanting to resume their journey, only to find the way blocked. Green eyes widened and then narrowed in quick succession. “Starling,” she growled.

“It’s Grand Duke Starling now, Princess Emma,” the ex-Lord Starling sneered through his surprise. “And what would _you_ be doing prowling around my mistress’ private office?”

Before the blonde could rebuke the words spilling from this hateful man’s mouth, a jarring cackle erupted from her wife. Surprised, Emma glanced sharply to her left and met a mask that she had only ever glimpsed directed at Snow White.

“ _Grand Duke?”_ the dark queen jeered. She reached up with one hand to pretend to wipe a tear from her eye. Her other hand, hidden behind her back, slipped the leather pouch under the back of her jerkin and hooked it to her belt. “If you are stupid enough to believe the lies that spew forth from my mother’s mouth, then you deserve to have your titles stripped from you.”

Starling’s expression twisted until it looked like he might start to spit nails. He drew breath – to insult them or to cry for backup the couple didn’t know – but a wave of the brunette’s hand silenced him and another quick gesture swept him from the room, out of sight.

“Where did you send him?” Emma asked sharply. She was shaken by the amount of anger she felt swimming through her veins and tasted disappointment at the knowledge that she had missed her chance to make him pay for all he’d done to her people and her family. Her wife didn’t answer right away but moved closer to cup a warm hand around the back of her neck. Instantly, she felt her anger drain from her body.

“Emma, we need to keep our anger in check,” Regina warned. She sighed heavily and looked briefly around the room. “We need something that reminds us to remain in control.”

The blonde closed her eyes to the feel of fingers caressing the fine hair at the nape of her neck and knew instantly what would make her calmer if Cora (or anyone for that matter) managed to penetrate her cool exterior. It certainly hadn’t taken the disgraced Starling long. “What you’re doing right now. Feeling your hands anywhere on my body would snap me out of my thoughts.”

“I think the same goes for me,” the sorceress answered. “Try this…” She took a few steps back and pictured the spot behind her wife’s ear, where her hand normally stayed while they were locked in their most passionate kisses. Her thumb would caress the downy fuzz high on Emma’s cheek while her fingers and nails would scratch through silky strands of golden hair. It usually drove her wife wild, so surely a reminder of those moments would nudge her back on track if Cora managed to get her verbal claws in the young queen. A small gasp from across the room told her that her efforts were successful and she committed the task to memory.

Emma’s frustration and fear got the better of her for a while as she tried to replicate the spell on her wife. Her difficulties in performing something that looked so simple only reminded her of how new she was to magic and how ill prepared she was to challenge someone of Cora’s power and experience, but after a few minutes of feeling like she wanted to cry, an invisible hand cupped the side of her face and sank nails lightly into her skull to drag her back to the present. She paused and breathed. She remembered her exhaustion after a week of Regina’s tutelage and the lesson she’d learned about her emotions and magic.

She remembered her own advice and allowed memories of her sweetest moments with Regina to fill her. This time, the spell came to her easily and she knew instantly from the smile on pink lips that she had done it.

“That is a rather more intimate spot than I would have suggested, dear,” Regina commented as they prepared to resume their mission. She wasn’t exactly complaining, but she did stop to wonder whether Emma’s spell would cause more of a dangerous distraction than a friendly nudge.

Emma cocked her head to one side and stared at the target she’d chosen. It took a moment for her to realise how her choice had been interpreted and she chuckled. “I was aiming for your heart. To remind you that it belongs to me and that I will do everything in my power to protect it.” Her hand paused on the door as her eyes lingered on her wife’s chest. “Though I can’t guarantee that my mind won’t wander accidentally to other, temptations.”

“Let us finish this,” Regina began as she leaned forward to brush a kiss against a proud jaw. “And then we can find the right time and place to explore that thought fully.”

* * * * *

Cora was pacing the courtyard when her daughter and daughter-in-law eventually found her. Bodies littered the ground in random places, as if boredom or annoyance had lingered for too long in her mind and she’d simply taken her frustrations out on the people nearest to her, tossing them around like unwanted toys. Emma and Regina’s arrival brought her feet to a halt and a cruel smile to her lips.

“Well, well, Regina,” she began, her tone clipped and menacing. “It appears that you finally found your saviour at last. And this one does not seem inclined to want to roll over and die without putting up a good fight.”

Regina had braced herself for the barb, knowing that her mother was going to cut right to her core. She and Emma had muttered a mantra together as they made their way through the castle; they chanted with each few steps, ‘love gives us power over those who would hurt us’. It had felt ridiculous at first. Every instinct that Regina had made her want to gag on the words, but something about the repetition stuck. She heard Cora’s barb – the thinly veiled insult of her previous love – and pictured Daniel in her mind the way she wanted him to be remembered – good and whole and looking at her as if she was his entire world. The taunt missed its mark and the memory of kind eyes fuelled the steady thrum of magic in her veins. “How do you see this conflict ending, Mother? No matter what you do, we will not bow to your will.”

Fathomless eyes bored into the ex-Evil Queen, searching for the cowering child she once was, but not finding her. Apparently already fed up of talking, Cora threw out her hands and summoned vines from the ground to wrap around Emma’s torso. She smirked at the tightening in Regina’s face, fully expecting her daughter to lose her aura of calm at the sudden attack on her wife. She was disappointed.

Instead of her go-to response of anger, Regina put to use her hours of practise in the dungeon and focussed her love for Emma into taming the constricting plants. As they withered and died under her power, she forced back the urge to smirk. It was too soon in the game for that and overconfidence was precisely the sort of uncompassionate response that would probably weaken her newly discovered strength. While it might not have the same amusing overtones, there was still satisfaction to be had in thwarting her mother’s efforts.

There was little time to gloat anyhow. Cora wasted no time in wondering at her daughter’s competence and threw a barrage of attacks against both queens. She poured her hatred into every fireball and lightning bolt that she could conjure, letting their defence fuel her hatred further, until she decided that she needed to change tactics and summoned her minions from the battle-field.

Emma spotted the hoard first, her mouth opening with a gasp of horror as the demon-man-dogs crawled over the battlements like rats from a burning ship and soldiers charged through the opening gates. Though she knew that reinforcements would not be far behind, this knowledge did not fill her with hope. More allies meant more victims for Cora’s masochism. She caught her wife’s eye and shared her concern with a quick flick of her eyebrow. Regina nodded and then gestured with her head for the blonde to move in front of her. With the witch more focussed on calling in her army, the queens lazily deflected the slower attacks and moved into their new position. Emma couldn’t see what her wife was doing behind her, but she could feel the shared connection strengthening as magic crackled between their bodies.

Cora watched with rage and disbelief as a pulse of purple light erupted from her daughter’s body and expanded to encase the three of them in a large dome that filled their circle of conflict. The soldiers who threw themselves against it were immediately repelled back into their comrades, knocking several over with the force of the rebound. _How can she…?_ she thought darkly.

This fight wasn’t going at all the way she’d planned. The kingdom was on its knees, Snow had lost all credibility, Emma was barely more than a child and very much a novice in the arcane arts and Regina – her predictable daughter – had weakened herself again by falling in love. How could she lose with so many points in her favour? Where had these two found this new brand of magic, and at such short notice? It had taken _her_ years to track down something as powerful as the Crown of Bones to aid her bidding. Years of sacrifice, murder, seduction and manipulation to reach the height of her magical prowess. There was no chance that she would surrender to this undeserving pair. It was time to up her game.

The dome had barely touched the ground when Regina felt the tell-tale sensation of air being sucked from her lungs. The spell was one of her mother’s favourites, so she had known that it would happen at some point, but what she was not prepared for was the extra panic that she saw and felt from Emma’s end. The blonde had no experience of being drowned as a form of torture and panic appeared to have hit her immediately, if her flailing arms and legs were anything to go by.

Regina schooled her thoughts, knowing that her body would preserve more oxygen if she remained calm. Thinking back to the few minutes they’d had in Snow’s office, she reached out with her mind and caressed the back of her wife’s neck, hoping that their secret signal would pull Emma back from the abyss. The blonde’s legs slowly stopped kicking and her arms inched to her sides. Regina smiled inwardly; to an outsider, it looked like the young queen was losing consciousness. With any luck, her mother might… there!

Cora cackled and dropped the blonde to the ground, throwing yet more vines around the barely moving body as she rounded on her daughter. “Did you really believe that she was a match for me?” She stepped closer to the ex-Evil Queen, her eyes boring into her daughter’s mind, waiting for that moment when Regina would lose the battle against her need to breathe and would start to panic. “I will enjoy breaking her properly, Regina. Like you should have years ago.”

Buoyed by each success, the dark queen tapped further into the depths of her magic and, bit by bit, loosened the hold on her lungs. Air began to seep back in, enough to drive back the black spots that threatened her vision, until thoughts came cleanly again and a new plan formed in her mind. Instead of her usual faux terror, she forced her expression to relax, imagining that she was sinking into a warm bath, Emma’s arms already reaching for her, waiting impatiently to bring their bodies together.

 _This is so easy!_ she thought with delight. It was effortless in a way that casting spells never had been before. Even with her heart at its blackest, when she was tearing down villages in her search for Snow White and only one or two peasants bothered to oppose her, the effort had exhausted her, sending her into increasingly dark bouts of depression. Mentally, she supposed, maintaining this level of tranquillity was still sapping her strength; she couldn’t keep this up forever, but in her heart and soul, she felt lighter than ever and her magic flowed like a wide river, graceful and unstoppable.

Regina did her best to ignore the growing confusion and frustration on her mother’s face, knowing that it would only distract her. She could revel in those small victories later. Once more, she pulled back the vines from her wife’s body and watched as Emma stirred from her prone position on the ground. Anger and humiliation filled green eyes, so she reached out with invisible hands and cupped the blonde’s face again, hoping that Emma could find the strength to release those demons. Receiving a reluctant nod, she knew that she couldn’t wait any longer to act.

Cora’s eyes widened with dawning realisation as movement from Emma caught her attention and she understood that Regina had somehow found a defence against her spell. She couldn’t comprehend this turn of events; how, with apparently so little effort, was her daughter gaining the upper hand?

“How dare you!” she thundered; her bemused anger evident in her expression. She watched as her daughter’s calm focus moved to the crown atop her head and for the first time in a long time, Cora found herself on the defensive. _This is not possible,_ she thought for the hundredth time.

Cora’s spells came hot and fast then, her eyes darting between the two queens as their attacks joined forces and began to overwhelm her. She could barely recall the last time she’d been on the receiving end of someone else’s superior power. The Dark One had rarely bothered to challenge her, her daughter’s efforts had been inconvenient but ultimately harmless, and other than a few less than pleasant experiences with entitled royals, the only person who’d ever made her feel so powerless was her father. She was still puzzling over the origin of Regina’s changed magic when she felt a tug at her hair and winced at the pain of several strands being ripped from her head, along with her hard-won crown.

She screamed and lunged, her claws scratching at the air to claim it back. “You have not earned that! Give it back to me!”

Regina caught the circle of bones with both hands and for a fraction of a second didn’t know what to do. It was heavier than she’d imagined and with her magic interrupted, she had to rely on Emma to deflect Cora’s frantic retaliation. She was beginning to feel sorry for her mother; she remembered the desperation that came with the need to crush an enemy and make sure that no one could have power over her again. Emma was right; that aggressive behaviour came from a place of fear, not strength. Cora’s façade was crumbling and the speed of it had unnerved her.

Knowing that she had no choice though, Regina looked between the ancient, dark relic and back to her mother. In the deep recesses of her mind, a voice whispered temptations. Once upon a time, she would have jumped at the chance to wear the crown herself and absorb its power. Now, she actually felt a little sick at the thought and dismissed the shadow of the Evil Queen with a sense of disgust. “I have no need for it… Not any longer.”

Cora’s indignation reached its peak and she pulled all of her rage into a swirling black mass before aiming it at her daughter. She watched, delighted as it flew right through the blonde queen’s blocking attempt and hit Regina in the chest, knocking her back several feet and releasing the Crown of Bones from her grip. Her eyes tracked its trajectory and she pulled it from the air, smirking as it flew towards her, only to watch in horror as a bolt of white energy batted it off course. It skittered towards the border of the dome and she rounded on Queen Emma with a growl.

Emma’s gaze wanted to drift to her wife’s fallen form but she forced it to stay on the furious witch in front of her. Her thoughts were in chaos; from still feeling breathless after the strangling vines and constricting grip on her lungs, to the sheer power expressed by her mother-in-law’s dark magic, her control of her emotions fluctuated wildly. Some aberrant thoughts had to be forced to the back of her mind, to be studied later… _This woman is terrifying. No surprise that very few people have challenged her. Am I actually feeling grateful for that week of torture? Regina is impossibly alluring when she takes charge. I wonder if she’s thought about when we’ll have children…_ Round and round the thoughts went. Had she really believed that it would be so easy to just focus on love and win the battle? With Cora bearing down on her, Emma’s confidence waned and she began to back away.

In a panic, the novice sorceress shot balls of white light at the approaching mad woman and stepped unconsciously towards the barrier. In the back of her mind, she tried to recall the words she’d spoken with her wife as they searched for Cora through the castle, but they sat on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach. A sinister look passed over the witch’s eyes and Emma realised quickly what was coming next. She tried to recall the calm she’d felt when Regina’s phantom hand had touched her cheek, but before she could offer up a defence, those claws were reaching for her lungs again and squeezing all the air out of them, suffocating her.

Had Emma been able to think at all, she might have wondered how often her wife had had to put up with this treatment as a child. It might have occurred to her that, regardless of Snow White’s input, the young Regina Mills had no hope of escaping her mother’s clutches – Daniel probably would have died anyway. She might have concluded that monsters like the Evil Queen and even Cora too, were not born but made that way by the cruelties of life.

Emma was on the verge of passing out when she thought she saw a shadow pass behind Cora’s figure and felt a sliver of hope. The last thing she saw before her world went dark was the witch’s body crumpling to the ground and Regina standing over her, her eyes full of sorrow.


	23. Now That I Love You, Let Me Go

A distant cheer rose and aroused the attention of Queen Snow and Matilda, who were still hidden beneath the castle foundations. Two pairs of eyes lit up with hope but one with decidedly more caution that the other.

“We are victorious,” Snow announced confidently and stood to brush off her clothes. She couldn’t wait to get back into her castle and start repairing the damage to her kingdom. There was much to be done and she didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

Tilly watched the queen with some trepidation. Since finding Queen Snow waiting miserably at the mouth of the tunnel, she’d done everything in her power to dissuade the monarch from leaving. So far, she had not felt the need to reach for the poppy powder, for which she was grateful, but now she hesitated. “Queen Snow,” she began in her most forceful tone. “We cannot know which side celebrates. We must wait for Queen Emma.”

The monarch whirled and opened her mouth to declare her intentions, until she saw the worry in blue eyes and for a moment, was taken in by her daughter’s likeness. She sighed. “I should be out there, leading my people,” she insisted petulantly.

Matilda felt relief, pity and irritation hit her all at once. “Forgive me, your majesty, but your people are not involved in this battle. Not directly. Those who have the strength left to fight have left your service and have declared themselves free of sovereignty.”

“Can they do that?” Snow questioned with genuine confusion. She’d never heard of such a thing.

“So long as they do not live on sovereign land, they can.” Seeing new worry in hazel eyes, the maid added, “Those who want to return have sworn fealty to Queen Emma.”

Snow sighed again, deeper this time. The revelations about her reign just kept on coming. While she wanted to be upset, to feel betrayed by those who had abandoned her, she found she couldn’t blame them. Very few people were happy with her leadership, and for good reason. She studied her companion closer for a moment, taking note of the healthy glow of her skin and the brightness in her eyes.

“Emma has taken good care of you, I see. Are you happy in their castle?” She was curious to know what life was like on the other side of the border. It had been so long since she’d had free rein over the other half of her family’s land. She recalled the many journeys with her father and the smiles on faces when they passed through the small but happy villages.

Tilly considered her new home and tried to compare it to the village and castle she’d grown up in. “Life inside the castle is much as I remember it here, your majesty. The servants and soldiers are healthy and happy.”

The queen nodded. “Have you visited the villages? How do they compare?”

Hesitantly, Matilda described the visits she’d had with her mistresses and the prosperity that had grown there since Leopold’s time on the throne. She’d made many friends amongst Queen Regina’s servants too and had much to relate from their points of view. She didn’t know what Queen Snow was looking for in her anecdotes, but the darkening cloud over the monarch’s head gave her pause. She trailed off and allowed a sober silence to descend on their little hideaway. If Snow’s darkening thoughts kept her from flying into battle, then she could live with that.

It didn’t hurt that the queen’s growing guilt also went some way to alleviating her bitterness over her family’s deplorable situation. As she resumed her spot on the floor, she held out hope that the future would bring better prospects for all.

* * * * *

When Emma came to, she found concerned, brown eyes gazing down on her and her wife’s voice calling her name. Her hands found Regina’s and she pulled herself into a sitting position, remembering a similar situation in a library three years ago. Who knew back then that her wife had such a natural caring side?

“Regina? What happened?” A pained groan from close by caught her attention and her head swivelled round to find Cora Mills on the ground, writhing against some invisible force, her hand clutching her chest. She felt her wife pull away from her and watched Regina skuttle over to her mother’s side, those caring hands reaching out tentatively.

Tears pricked the dark queen’s eyes and though she tried to hold them back, fat droplets brimmed over and splashed silently against the hard dirt beneath. “Mother?” she prodded cautiously. She was trapped between needing to comfort the woman and wanting to throw shackles on her. She hadn’t expected her actions to have such an impact and the sceptical part of her, which had been lied to for so many years, refused to believe that such a small thing had had this profound effect on her tormentor.

_The burst of dark energy knocked the wind out of her and Regina lay on the ground for several seconds, one hand cradling her head as she tried to regain her bearings. Behind her, she felt the force of her mother’s magic as it pulled the crown from the air and then Emma’s response, which sent it veering off again. Her fingers bit into the earth as she attempted to get up but could only sway a little while her gaze sought frantically for her wife._

_There… Emma’s face continued to hold onto its stubborn heroism, but it was fading fast, panic and fear beginning to override her senses as Cora bore down on her. With her lover’s safety on her mind, Regina managed to pull a knee under her body and inch by painful inch, she righted herself. Her mother’s back was to her now, the woman having apparently dismissed her as a threat – either that or she was blinded by anger. Regina reached behind her and unhooked the pouch from her belt._

_She checked the contents and breathed a sigh that it was undamaged. Though, since Cora continued to move around with ease, that was hardly surprising. There was no time to dwell on what she was about to do, but she couldn’t help noticing how black and shrivelled the thing was. While it still beat, sluggishly, there was barely anything left that resembled a human heart. Out of instinct or perhaps some distant hope, she touched the centre of it and pushed a tendril of magic into it. A thin, pink line wormed its way through the black and sank into the core. That little gift was all that Regina could spare for the woman who had twisted her life around so badly and as she drew her hand back, she turned to the witch with an air of determination._

_Blurred faces peered in through the dome, but Regina barely noticed. Her mother had her invisible claws in Emma again and she could see that any plan Cora had to keep the queen alive was fading fast. The blonde didn’t have long and as she gasped for air, the ex-Evil Queen approached the witch from behind and focussed on the spot where she knew her mother’s heart belonged. The distance wasn’t long, but she was very conscious of not making a noise and stepped deliberately where her feet would fall without kicking stones or slipping in the dirt._

_Regina knew that she had another option; she could tighten her fingers around the coal-like organ and squeeze… squeeze until Cora’s knees buckled and all that remained of her life-force turned to dust, as they each had with so many hearts before. As her mother had with Daniel. There was a certain justice in turning the tables that way, but Regina needed to know. Had her mother ever loved her?_

_Crushing her mother’s heart had to be a last resort, she reminded herself as she inched nearer to her target. When she had only one more step to go, a terrified little voice from the past reared up in the back of her mind and begged her to stop. To turn. To run. To hide and hope Mother would have mercy on her this time. She pushed the voice away – not with the irritation of a woman who hated the timid child she’d been, but with the reassurance of a queen who knew how to take charge and had confidence in herself. Someone who knew how to have love and compassion for others._

_Knowing that Emma couldn’t wait any longer, Regina’s hand slipped through the air without hesitation and slid the shrivelled heart back into the body it had once inhabited, long ago. The effect was instantaneous._

_Cora stiffened as a choking gasp fell from her thin lips._

_Recognition, both of her own defeat and her daughter’s surprising weapon of choice, shone from Cora Mills’ wide gaze as she turned and crumpled against Regina’s form. All of her strength left her as decades of unfelt emotion poured back into her body and captured her mind. She barely felt the hard, cold ground beneath her through the turmoil of her new-found guilt._

_Countless images flooded her thoughts, from the decision to remove her own heart, right up to moments ago, when she’d cared so little for whether her daughter lived or not. Power had become her only reason for living and until now, she hadn’t realised how irrelevant it was when she had no one left who wanted to share that position with her._

_She couldn’t feel too sorry for the hundreds of people whose lives she’d ruined during her quest for wealth and power. There were too many of them to remember individually. They were like a great faceless mass that signified very little in her life. No one had cared about her when she was just the miller’s daughter. Why should she care about them?_

_But her daughter – her beautiful baby – had suffered so much by her hand. Her excuse had always been that it was for Regina’s own good; she hadn’t wanted any child of hers to endure the indignity of being poor and powerless. But rather than building a wonderful life for her daughter, she had torn it down, mired it in darkness and misery. She had only succeeded in creating the opposite. Why? Because greed and her own ambition were the only things that mattered when she could no longer feel love._

_The guilt and regret that gripped her now tore at her insides, clawing and leaving her in agony. She could feel her dark magic slipping away, shying from the sliver of light deep inside her heart. That magic held the source of her longevity and a part of her screamed with the knowledge that she’d been defeated, but floating to the surface now, with the clarity of her feelings for her daughter, was relief. She was dying; this agony wouldn’t last long._

_She had no idea that each of these thoughts and memories she shared now with Regina, whose touch lingered around her battered heart._

* * * * *

King David pushed through the crowd which had gathered at the castle gates and made his way into the courtyard. He’d had to abandon his horse with the rest of the cavalry and didn’t have his usual advantage of being able to see over heads, so when he stepped through a tight-knit group of soldiers and found himself facing a large, purple dome of magic, his jaw dropped. He could just make out the three figures inside and soon figured out that his daughter was trapped in there.

The king turned to one of the soldiers beside him. “What happened? Did the witch trap them in there?”

“No, your majesty,” answered a quiet but gravelly voice from his right. “According to the prisoners, Queen Regina erected the barrier when the witch ordered her minions to her aid.”

Captain Briggs had heard the royal’s question and, along with Lieutenant Fowler, made his way along the spectators where they could gather together. “Your majesty,” he greeted. There was a sharpness in both his eyes and voice and as he glanced around at all of the gaping soldiers, his expression tightened. “We should begin organising the men,” he noted gruffly. “I would bet on Queen Regina and Queen Emma to bring us to victory, but right now, if we should come under attack again, we are sitting ducks.”

Charming looked around again at all of the agape faces and wanted to kick himself. What if this was a trap? Without his direction, their entire force was mindlessly wandering closer. “Of course,” he answered beneath a flush of embarrassment. The first thing they needed to do was to remove the prisoners from Cora’s control and then find defensible positions. As he began to corral the troops again and give orders, he missed the small exchange of approval between the captain and lieutenant. He felt really alive again and wondered briefly when he had stopped having such an active role in his own kingdom’s army.

It didn’t take long to clear the courtyard of spectators, leaving just the captain, the king and a dozen of their best marksmen, in case the worst should happen. Now, as they watched the blurred figures moving about behind the haze of purple, they did so with keen eyes, not distracted ones. Charming took the captain’s gentle scolding to heart and remained vigilant on the fight, the soldiers and the rest of their surroundings. His thoughts turned frequently to his wife, concerned for her safety, but he buried his worry as best he could. A few scouts and Snow’s old friend, Red were scouring the area around the perimeter, and those who’d been charged with recapturing the keep would search inside. He would have to be patient to see what they found or see what Emma and Regina had to say.

By the looks of things inside the dome, he wouldn’t have to be patient for long. There were several tense moments, when it looked as though the fight might be won or lost, but when Regina was thrown several metres and struggled to get up, and Cora began to choke the life out of Emma, David’s heart was in his mouth. He wanted to charge through the barrier and run his sword through the witch, but knew that he couldn’t. The wall of magic was impenetrable to their efforts, so instead, he checked to see if the men were ready with their arrows, and eyed the battlements for any enemies they might have missed in their initial sweep. He caught movement from the ex-Evil Queen and held his breath, praying that she would recover in time to rescue Emma.

No one was quite sure what had happened when Cora suddenly fell to the ground and dropped her latest victim. Charming inched closer, but could make nothing out besides three bodies, one with a head of dark hair hovering over another with golden blonde.

* * * * *

After seeing the distress in brown eyes, Emma drifted near her wife’s side, one eye on Regina’s tear-streaked face and the other on the wicked woman who was responsible for so much misery. She didn’t feel bad for Cora, who was obviously in pain. She couldn’t. Cora had hurt the woman she loved, been responsible for bringing an entire kingdom to the brink of starvation and had just tried to kill her. Emma only had enough compassion for her mother-in-law at that moment not to immediately drag her to the dungeons and chain her up where they’d found Matilda.

“Regina?” she tried again when the brunette didn’t respond.

Regina took several deep breaths, but couldn’t stop the sobs that caught in her throat. She hadn’t cried so much since her breakdown twenty-one years ago. Not even when her father died. Cora had almost crawled into her lap as she continued to grasp at her chest and groan. Any part of Regina that might have felt victorious at seeing her mother broken was long gone. All she could see now when her mother looked up at her were the years that they had missed – years of broken-memories that she had only barely glimpsed through their brief connection. A bony hand trembled as it rose towards her face and she reached for it with her own before bringing it to her cheek. It wasn’t her imagination; as the shaking slowed and Cora acclimatised, her skin began to lose its youthful appearance and her eyes slowly became sunken. She didn’t have long left.

Regina heard Emma’s voice and knew that her wife was worried for her, but she couldn’t process that now. She was just glad for the blonde’s presence. “Mother?” she tried through her tears.

“R-Regina,” Cora spoke at last, her voice holding affection for perhaps the first time in her daughter’s life. Her newly-replaced heart thumped loudly in her ears and her magic drained from her limbs at an exponential rate, leaving them weak, but she was determined to tell the girl that she was sorry, that she loved Regina no matter what, that she was proud of her. Her mouth opened to say all of this, but all she could manage was a gurgling, spluttering noise.

“Mother, don’t try to speak,” the dark queen soothed. “Save your energy, I will find a way to stop this. I will…”

“No,” Cora croaked. “No…” she repeated softer.

She could see the skin of her hand losing its elasticity and moulding to the shape of her bones. She didn’t want her daughter to see her die this way, but there was nothing she could do except to accept it. Her life had led her on an iniquitous path and she knew that she had few to blame but herself. That her actions had forced Regina to take a similar journey would forever haunt her; with this love filling her, she would never be able to rest. For that reason, she welcomed death.

Her throat felt like it was caving in and flooding with saliva all at the same time, but with a few experimental swallows, she managed to find the last few words she would speak. “Let me… go.” Regina shook her head violently. Cora summoned enough energy to stroke a thumb across the cheek where the queen still held her hand. For the first time, her eyes held nothing but pride and love.

Regina watched her mother’s eyes close and released another sob. The hand that she held became even more of a dead weight than before and she clutched it tighter as her body folded over the now dead witch. Inaudible to all others, a whimpered _Mommy_ drifted from the brunette’s mouth and with her will depleted, the magical barrier died, exposing them to the dozen or so soldiers who remained.

Emma could only kneel in the dirt and hold her wife’s distraught frame as it shook with more sobs. Her eyes caught her father’s and found a depth of compassion there, the likes of which she’d never seen before and, though she knew it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for the Evil Queen’s victims to see her this way, Emma felt a sudden urge to protect her wife’s dignity. Without thinking too hard on her actions, using just the depth of love she felt, she waved a hand and transported her, Regina and Cora’s body to her childhood bedroom.

Now sat on her old bed, she manoeuvred Regina with gentle encouragement to let go of the corpse. Whatever dark magic had kept Cora alive for so long, it had not preserved her body in the same manner that Regina’s immortality had. Now without life, Cora’s body continued to shrivel in on itself, as if making up for years of decomposition. Emma didn’t want her wife to have the memory of feeling that happen to her mother, so shielded the dark queen as her own eyes watched with morbid fascination. When all that remained were mummified skin and bones, Emma waved her hand again and wrapped the body in a shroud before sending it to the room next to the infirmary, where bodies could await their burial.

Regina fell asleep in her arms sometime later and Emma followed, knowing that she needed to rest. Emma the queen scolded her for drifting off to sleep when the stability of the kingdom was still so shaky in the aftermath of the battle; Emma the daughter prodded at her to remind her that her mother continued to wait for news in a dank tunnel beneath the castle; but Emma the wife dismissed them both as irrelevant. The battle was over, the woman she loved was in mourning and they had both more than earned a couple of hours to gather what little strength they could for the coming days.

* * * * *

The sound of loud voices in the corridor woke Emma hours later, but it was the absence of the warm body beside her which startled her into action as she sat up and searched the room. A harsh tone came from beyond the bedroom door, followed by abrupt silence before the handle moved and someone pushed carefully through. Dark, brown eyes met green and an expression of hope turned to annoyance.

“Imbeciles,” Regina muttered as she gave up her cautious approach and snapped the door closed behind her. At her wife’s curious look, she added, “Snow has returned, so of course, there is much merriment.”

“Did the scouts find her or…” Emma rubbed sleep from her eyes so she could study her wife’s face. The brunette’s appearance was flawless in every respect, except for the hollowness behind her eyes. Emma kicked herself for sleeping too long; Regina had withdrawn from her pain and was wearing the mask of a queen. It was something they both had to do from time to time, but this mask was particularly thick and worry began to creep along the blonde’s spine.

“I thought it best to tell your father before he began throwing accusations around,” Regina replied as a matter of fact. She saw her wife’s hand as it moved to reach for her own and found herself abruptly on her feet before skin could make contact.

She hadn’t meant to pull away. She ached for the comfort her wife could give her, but her façade felt brittle and she needed to keep it in place if she was going to help to restore some semblance of control in Snow’s kingdom. “You expended an awful lot of energy today so I asked everyone to let you sleep. They apparently forgot that in their excitement. Though how they can still be excited…” she rolled her eyes.

“You did a lot today too,” Emma argued, though decided against mentioning the deep emotional turmoil that had accompanied the arcane and physical efforts exerted. “Why aren’t _you_ resting?”

“Duty calls,” Regina answered without meeting the gaze that studied her. “Besides, I am used to using magic; I recover quickly. You are just beginning to explore your powers.” She wandered around the room, examining random items dispassionately, avoiding the intimacy that she knew Emma expected from her. “If you feel able now, I could use your assistance when I leave to address Red and her rebels.”

Emma hesitated and then nodded slowly and climbed off the bed. Someone, probably Regina, had covered her with a quilt; she took her time folding it so as to have a moment to think. She couldn’t tell her wife how to mourn a woman who had not deserved her love until the last few seconds of her life. Holding the brunette while she was distraught was one thing, but pulling apart the issue with words was likely to spark an argument. No matter how much she thought that Regina needed to discuss what had happened, she knew that the timing wasn’t ideal. As she placed the folded quilt into the closet, Emma swallowed her desire to ‘fix’ the situation and pushed her shoulders back as she followed her wife from the room.

* * * * *

Regina had never been so glad for Snow White’s self-absorbed neediness than in the days which followed their victory against The Witch of Death, Cora Mills. _An inventive title, as always,_ she thought of the moniker given to her mother by the village folk. It wasn’t that Cora hadn’t earned the title; her quest for complete power over the masses had only succeeded as well as it had through cruelty, death and destruction of an entire kingdom’s economy. But Regina knew that the issue was much more complicated than the simpletons of Snow’s land would allow.

They wouldn’t want to believe that they were capable of the same monstrosities, given the right circumstances. Perhaps not all of them would give in to temptation, or would have the desire to push back against the injustices in their own lives, even if that meant a path of vengeance, but her mother had once been one of them; just a peasant fighting through the daily grind and cursing those who had the power to make her life better, who turned a blind eye on the suffering below. Snow’s parents – the ‘good’ king and queen – had contributed to Cora’s misery in their own way and Regina’s own grandfather, King Xavier had been the one to nudge the miller’s daughter towards a life without love.

Cora’s life had been much like her own in many ways, so Regina couldn’t just see the stuff of nightmares that her mother became. She saw a broken girl, who’d dreamed for more than a life of drudgery. She saw a strong woman, who was willing to stand up for herself against those who would wrong her. She saw a powerful, intelligent sorceress, who wouldn’t be told when to stop fighting. Perhaps with her heart, Cora Mills could have been a vanguard for justice instead of revenge, but that was something the world would never know. Too many people had twisted her mind, until the only option that made sense was to forsake love altogether.

Regina didn’t yet know how to reconcile the monster with the mother.

So, she was grateful for Snow’s boundless enthusiasm because it kept Emma too busy to fuss about Regina’s sudden withdrawal. She could stay out late, siting various duties as reasons, and crawl into bed too exhausted to do anything but sleep. It wasn’t a tactic that she could keep up for long; she could already see the wheels turning behind concerned, green eyes, but the longer she could stall her wife, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Regina. Hard not to fall back on old habits when it feels like your world has just broken apart.
> 
> Are Snow and David actually learning? Is there hope for them yet?


	24. Rebuilding Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, some of you guys really want to see Snow knocked off her throne. She's a spoiled princess, yes, but I hope the last couple of chapters will help you warm to her a little before I bid you adieu.
> 
> This is the penultimate update. Just one more chapter and the epilogue to go (which I will upload together). It's been a pleasure, people!
> 
> Happy New Year.

Three days after Cora’s defeat, following numerous meetings with the Charming couple and their remaining advisors, the royals rode out to survey the damages to the kingdom first hand. With Queen Abigail’s soldiers patrolling Queen Regina and Queen Emma’s northern borders, the wives had decided to leave the daily running of their kingdom to their own delegates for a few weeks while they aided Snow and David. Captain Briggs had returned with half of their force and any wounded, leaving the other half to assist with some of the rebuild.

Snow’s castle was largely untouched by the battle and only a few spells and hexes were removed before Regina was happy that the servants would be safe while working. Emma and Snow had organised a hospital in the ballroom, where the sick and injured could be treated in comfort, and various rooms were repurposed to house the homeless until new homes were made available.

The rebels in the south were more than happy to provide labour and make journeys between villages with food, along with armed escorts, but it was clear that most had no patience left for Snow White or her prince. Tensions remained and many would only deign to speak with Queen Emma if they had to deal with royalty at all. Despite Snow’s protests that she could persuade her people to return, Emma had already begun drawing up documents to legitimise the crown’s new relationship with their ex-compatriots. She wanted the rebels to know that it was their choice, now or in the future. The crown would welcome them back if they chose, but even if they decided that they preferred their new life-styles, there would be no resentment from the system which had failed them.

Snow had pouted for an entire day but eventually, she conceded that friendly neighbours were preferable to resentful subjects. In the end, the only thing she’d insisted on was that Red fill the role of ambassador.

Things were moving along nicely, thanks in most part to Regina’s vast knowledge and her ability to spur the masses into action. She didn’t threaten, bribe or cajole. There was no need. Her people trusted her judgement and Snow’s people had yet to replace their memories of the Evil Queen. When she gave an order, everyone jumped to it.

As they rode along on horseback towards Thistle Mist, Emma couldn’t help but stare at the back of her wife’s head and ponder her next move. Regina had decided that she and Snow should ride at the head of their party to present a united front to the people. She reasoned, that if they were going to persuade the kingdom to work together and have hope for brighter days ahead, they needed to demonstrate that they too were capable of cooperation.

Appearances were important. While Emma, Regina and many outsiders agreed that Snow White and Prince Charming were not strong leaders, it was eventually decided that they would remain as the figure-heads they had always been. There were muttered protests, but Queen Regina beat them back. _The masses are fickle_ , she reminded them, _and don't take well to change_. On the whole, they would adapt better to a show of cooperation than watching their beloved queen deposed. Snow and Charming had a responsibility to their people and would remain, but behind the scenes, they would defer to hers and Emma's rule. Eventually, the entire kingdom would fall once again under the same throne, but until that day, they would put on a good show.

Emma agreed with Regina in principle, but she suspected that her wife’s motivation today had more to do with her stubborn efforts to avoid talking about her mother than anything to do with reassuring villagers. After allowing the blonde to comfort her the first night, the dark queen deflected all further attempts to get close and Emma was reaching the end of her patience.

“Emma?” David called for the third time. He’d been watching his daughter’s frown deepen with every minute that passed and knew that he should probably see if there was anything he could do to help. When green eyes locked onto him, he offered a tentative smile. “Is everything alright? You look like you’re thinking pretty hard over there.”

The young queen shook her head. “I’m fine.”

David sighed slowly, mentally preparing himself for a battle – one with hopefully less bloodshed than the last. He had years of experience in his little girl’s tantrums though and had a good idea of what was on her mind. “How are things between you and Regina?”

Emma rolled her eyes. Another terse ‘fine’ was on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed it back. After a quick look around to check that no one else was in hearing distance, she relented. “She’s avoiding me.”

“Ah,” Charming replied. For a moment, he floundered; what could he hope to achieve in counselling the Evil Queen’s wife? But he recovered quickly and nodded. “I’ve heard the servants call it ‘the silent treatment’,” he told her sagely. “Do you have any idea what you did to deserve her ire?”

“Nothing,” Emma answered. At her father’s disbelieving eyebrow raise, she sighed. “It’s not about what I did, but what I want to do.”

Charming frowned in confusion. “What do you want to do?”

“To make her talk about her mother,” she admitted.

David ‘ah-ed’ again, only this time with an added wince. “That might be a conversation best left buried,” he suggested.

“No offence, dad, but you’re wrong,” Emma insisted confidently. “I know my wife better than you do. She needs to talk about it.”

The king thought back to what Regina had been like when she was threatening his family with the dark curse and shook his head. “You know her now, but you don’t know her when she’s at her worst, Emma. She is extremely volatile when pushed too far. You need to be careful.”

The young queen gaped slightly at her father’s words. How could anyone who’d spent time with Queen Regina think that she could so easily revert to her former terror? “She’s hurting. No matter how complicated her relationship with her mother, she loved Cora. When Sir Henry died, the entire castle mourned with her; he was beloved by all. Now… well, none of us are at all sorry to see Cora gone. In fact, all I’ve heard since our victory are congratulations on killing the witch. How must that sound to Regina? I need to address it before it has too much time to fester, but… she’s avoiding me.”

“I suppose… when you put it that way,” he conceded. “Do you not converse in your chambers?”

“Usually, it’s the only place either of us are comfortable talking about personal things, but now she can excuse her absence until she’s dead on her feet.” The young queen contemplated this for a moment, trying to see a way around Regina’s plan, but she soon gave up. “Her expertise _is_ needed though, so it’s not as if I can complain.”

Charming remained silent for a long time as he too thought through the dilemma. After a while, his eyes brightened. “What if you were to make an appointment with her?”

Emma’s head snapped round, her eyes widening with pleasant surprise. She pictured the scenario clearly; cornering her wife in their temporary office and giving her little room for escape. “That’s not a bad idea at all.”

David decided not to be offended by her tone of surprise and chuckled at the mischievous expression that settled on his daughter’s face. She had matured a great deal in three years – somewhat through the necessity of fighting her parents’ battles, but also through her marriage to Regina. He was proud of the woman, and queen, she’d become but it was still nice to see his playful child in there somewhere.

“She’ll hate it, but I don’t see another way around it,” Emma continued. “And I am NOT prepared to let her bury everything as she did before. I won’t lose my wife to this.”

Emma backtracked down the procession of retainers and allies to find Regina’s personal assistant. She wanted to waste no more time and invented an urgent issue that needed to be handled by the dark queen. The PA scrambled for his schedule and, by squashing a few appointments closer together and/or shaving off a few minutes here and there, found half an hour at the end of the following day. The blonde thanked him profusely before urging her horse back into line next to her father. She felt mildly guilty for taking time away from other important issues, but firmly believed that it would only benefit everyone in the long run.

Those who knew Regina Mills well – as a passionate, protective, intelligent and progressive person – did not want to see the light of love extinguished from her eyes again. They might not fear the return of the Evil Queen, but none wanted to lose the friend they’d come to cherish.

The rest of the ride was short, bringing them up to the edge of the first homestead. The land closest to the castle was the best cropland, and fields divided almost half of the houses by several acres, making the journey between them longer than usual. Long enough to silence their procession and bring tears of rage to all but Snow, who cried for her own guilt. Any crop that had survived the summer and autumn had been trampled into the mud, useless to any but the most desperate and certainly not good enough to sell. The occasional rodent scurried out from between weeds, startled by the rumble of hooves, but even they were few and far between – most likely because they’d been hunted so often by ravenous humans.

The houses themselves were dilapidated; broken fences, doors, roofs and walls lying in disrepair, offering the previous occupants sparse protection from the biting winter wind. Some sort of attack, possibly by bandits, had ruined the once proud-standing homes, but with no profits entering the village, very little could be done to reverse the damage.

The villagers had given up.

As they approached the heart of Thistle Mist and closed in on the few remaining residents, Emma could see that her mother was struggling and called for a halt as she rode at a trot to catch up with the two brunette queens. She could see the tension in her wife’s shoulders and the irritation on her face and knew that Regina was fast losing her patience.

“For goodness sake, Snow,” Regina hissed beside her ex-step-daughter. “You are the queen and need to show these people that you are strong enough to lead them back to a life without suffering. Pull yourself together.”

Snow sniffled, feeling out of her depth and like a scolded child. “H-h-how c-can I f-f-face them n-now?”

“You have to put aside your own selfish feelings and dig deep to find the strength they need from you,” Regina bit back. “The strength you should have shown before all of this.” Rather than rallying her once-enemy, the pixy-haired queen heard the accusation and began to cry harder. “Oh, for…!”

“Mom,” Emma interrupted sharply, throwing a warning glance at her wife, who rolled her eyes as if to say, ‘go ahead; you try’. The blonde waited a minute or two for her mother to regain control of her breathing before speaking. “Mom, Regina is right; I know that all of this is a lot to take in, but it’s up to us to be the support that the people need. What’s done, is done,” she went on, seeing the lessening of sobs and feeling encouraged. “Mistakes were made and we can beat ourselves up about that as much as we want… in private. But they need to believe that we have the upper hand now and that our presence does not represent more broken promises.” She paused to let those words sink in before lowering her voice further. “They need you, Snow White. They need their queen.”

Regina swallowed the insult that rose immediately into her thoughts and took several deep, calming breaths as she surveyed the pathetic creature she’d come to almost like again. “On the plus side, you look sickly and underfed; you can use that to your advantage. Show your people that you have suffered with them and are still prepared to fight. Hopefully, they will rally behind you,” the sorceress added, her tone a little less biting. “Self-pity will inspire them to nothing but surrender. At this point, all they will surrender to is death or division. Stop crying and you can save lives.”

Charming had ridden up close not too long after his daughter, but was prevented from intervening by a strong grip on his forearm. He looked up to find familiar green eyes gazing at him pleadingly and realised quickly that his usual softly-softly approach with his wife was not what the situation called for, despite how much he desperately wanted to ease her pain.

Emma wanted to protest against her wife’s unyielding disapproval with displaying emotion, but now was not the time. _Tomorrow,_ she reminded herself. Whether her words or her wife’s were the inspiration Snow needed, something took hold and the older queen managed to gain some control over the devastation she felt.

Their stay in the village wasn’t long. As Regina had suggested, the sight of Snow White looking as skinny and pale as most of their kin went a long way to making her presence endearing to the people, rather than the persisting resentment that had crept up on them over the long, hungry months. She was able to talk with the surviving elders and explained the situation with Cora and the new partnership that now existed with Queen Regina. Emma watched her wife’s expression closely but the brunette was too well versed in hiding her feelings to let slip anything but distain for her mother’s actions.

“Begging your pardon, your majesty, but we will not manage new homes before the winter sets in,” the oldest of the elders replied to Snow’s news of rebuilding. “And even if we did, we are in no position to defend even the smallest of assets. Bandits patrol these areas regularly now; they have grown used to intercepting your generous gifts.”

Snow smiled sadly and shared a glance with Regina. In the past, comments like this would have her floating on a cloud of righteousness for days, but now they tasted bitter sweet. Receiving a curt nod, she turned back to the elders. “My daughter, Queen Emma has been investigating these raids and the people responsible for organising them have been reprehended. Nevertheless, protection will be provided for the foreseeable future. As for the rebuild, we will not begin before the spring.” At several confused looks, she elaborated, “Queen Regina will be providing the materials to build a community space, where everyone can spend the winter in comfort.”

Charming could hear the crack in his wife’s voice as she spoke and decided that it was time he contributed. With a hand on the small of her back he smiled down at her and then turned to their audience. “Quarters will be close, but warm and we will be keeping a close eye on supplies to ensure that they make it through. For the next three months, all we are asking is that you concentrate on recovering your health. We want to be ready to hit the ground running when spring arrives. We will not repeat the last several years.”

The elders exchanged confused and hesitant glances but faced with so many royals, none felt brave enough to challenge or question the proposals. It was more than they had hoped for, but they were long past trusting their monarchy at face value.

Having anticipated their scepticism, Regina had already made plans and had an ace up her sleeve. “As I initiated amongst the villages in my own kingdom, I have advised Snow to appoint a representative here to liaise with the crown.” She ignored their wary expressions and gestured to one side, prompting two figures to step out from behind the guards. “I believe you would prefer the people you recognise and trust to any more land owners.”

The elders’ faces lit up as they landed on two of their own. Gabriel and Carlos smiled as they were welcomed home, each finding themselves in the embrace of a friend. While the two new arrivals explained their journey to and from their neighbouring kingdom and reassured the people that it was safe to have hope again, Regina began to order the wagons of food, blankets and construction materials into the heart of the village. When everything was in place, she gave the signal and everyone who was not staying mounted their horses and set off for the next village.

Before nightfall, the soldiers would have temporary camps set up, each for themselves and the villagers, and patrols organised to deter looters. While rations had already reached every corner of the kingdom since Cora’s defeat, tonight, there would be a proper feast and a fireside gathering to chase some of those lingering fears away. Full bellies and warm beds were not the solutions to all of their problems, but they were a good place to start.

Gabriel and Carlos were the most enthusiastic with their goodbyes as the royals rode out and Emma couldn’t help but noticed that most of their gratitude seemed to be aimed directly at her wife.

* * * * *

Emma woke the following morning to find Regina still sound asleep beside her. Their journey through the villages had taken most of the previous day to complete, leading them back to the castle well into the midnight hour.

Their personal presence was sorely needed though; many of Snow’s subjects continued to live in isolation and confusion, not having heard enough to understand that their kingdom had fought a coup both from within its own ranks and from a powerful sorceress bent on their destruction. Starling’s bandits had prevented information from reaching the outer-lying villages – effectively keeping neighbouring villagers from learning the seriousness of their plight and joining forces.

Emma wasn’t sure what had woken her; she was exhausted and felt the pull of her eyelids within seconds of waking, but she was grateful all the same. Though wanting to go straight back to sleep, she made the most of the opportunity to enjoy time with her wife without duty coming between them – even if her wife was going to sleep through it all. Regina’s features were pinched, unlike the contentment that Emma was used to seeing. She thought back to the night before Regina’s abduction, when they’d spent hours making love and sleep had come easily to both of them. That sort of peaceful satisfaction seemed like a long way off and though Regina’s disappearance had catalysed the beginning of the battle, Emma continued to regret the loss of their intimacy.

When exhaustion did pull the blonde under again, a hand wound itself into a lock of brunette hair as if she couldn’t resist the need to touch the sorceress but was equally desperate not to wake her. That was how Regina found herself when she finally woke a few hours later – trapped by four clingy fingers and her own self-loathing.

What had she done to deserve this beautiful creature in her bed? Before she could force it back, a tear slipped silently from beneath her lashes and dripped onto the pillow. She knew now that love was not the weakness her mother had professed it to be, but she couldn’t help the old habits that slithered into her thoughts as the pain of loss continued to grip her heart. She didn’t want to break under the weight of it again, but she could already feel herself getting lost in the shadows of her mind.

She didn’t know how to stop it and she would not pull Emma under with her.

After untangling her hair from the blonde’s fingers, Regina slipped from the bed and waved a hand over her body to conjure clothes appropriate for a day of meetings. She felt her regal mask slide into place and breathed an internal sigh. She might not be able to avoid her inner turmoil forever, but for now, there was still plenty to do and she was determined to show everyone just how competent a queen she was.

Regina spent the morning in conference with Snow, Charming and Emma, reading progress reports from the soldiers in the villages, from border patrols, new trade deals and casualty reports. They sketched out plans for how they would deal with their budding alliance well into the future and entered the afternoon with a whole new list of jobs to tackle. As the charming couple were learning, it took a lot more than a lick of paint and a few nice words to bring a kingdom back from the brink of collapse.

By early evening, Regina was flagging. She’d assigned Emma and David the job of organising the troops along with Lieutenant Fowler and Snow’s new captain, Wade. She didn’t expect them to be finished for a while yet and though she’d known that it would take up all of her wife’s time, she felt suddenly lonely as she waited for her last appointment of the day. She checked the time and noted that there were a few minutes spare.

“Damn,” she muttered to herself.

Time to spare meant time to think, and time to think inevitably led to the dark place that she hated. She twirled her pen and shuffled through a pile of papers, searching for something that she might have missed during her afternoon of reading and checking documents, sorting out which she needed to countersign for Snow. Nothing. Her own methodical work appeared to be conspiring against her. Before she could begin to panic however, a knock sounded at the door and grabbed her attention.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the ceiling and called to the visitor to enter. What met her eyes was not what she’d been expecting though. “Emma,” Regina startled. There was a look in her wife’s eyes and a determined set to her body which sent a shiver of dread and desire along her spine. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice sharper than she liked. “I have an appointment, you know? With the Fi…”

“The Fisheries Alliance? Yes, I know,” the blonde replied readily. She closed the door behind her and sat opposite her wife, leaving the large desk between them.

As a rule, Regina didn’t like surprises and this one had her on edge. Anger bubbled beneath her business façade and her eyes narrowed in irritation. “If you know that, then you will also know that I have no time…”

“For us?” Emma finished again, eliciting another annoyed stare, only this time, she was relieved to see a hint of guilt mixed in there. “No, you haven’t had any time for us lately. So many convenient excuses to choose from too.”

Regina pushed her chair back abruptly and stood to pace behind the desk. She’d been here many times before – to a place where fear and anger collided and she spouted sentiments that were largely untrue. The brunette felt trapped inside her own mind, powerless, like watching two galloping horses about to crash headlong into each other and having no way to stop it. “I have a long list of tasks that are more important!” She heard her own words echoing in her head and winced.

Her irritation didn’t immediately dissipate with the sudden surge of guilt though. If anything, the discomfort that came with feeling any kind of remorse only heightened her instinct to fall back on anger. Regina closed her eyes and turned from the blonde’s scrutinising gaze. Trembling fingers dug into tired eyes in an effort to stem the tide of emotions that threatened to spill over. It had been so much easier to deal with these issues when she didn’t care about the people around her. Now though, with every cutting insult that came to mind, she felt a little more disgusted with herself.

Regina sighed despondently. Chancing a glance at her wife, she backtracked on her earlier remark, “Emma… I didn’t mean…”

“Yes, you did,” the young queen responded. The comment hurt, but she tried not to take it at face value. These were difficult times, her lover was struggling through soul-deep pain, and they were still expected to rise above their human needs to fulfil their duties. “However much you might think it of my parents, I’m not an idiot. I know that duty must come first; it’s the price of being royalty. Or at least, it should be.”

Regina felt mildly vindicated but confused by the forgiveness in Emma’s tone. “Then why…?”

"Because when the day is done, you are still the woman I love and it is _my_ duty to support you any way I can. Even if that means chasing you and pinning you down… you know, to talk." The blonde paused before a small smile grew at the corner of her mouth. "Though if you want to do that later and not talk...?"

The brunette cracked an answering smile but it was gone in a heartbeat. “Emma, I don’t know that I can give you what you want right now,” she told her wife honestly. She rubbed at her eyes and scratched fingers through her hair as images of another emotional breakdown bombarded her. “Or ever. I don’t know what will happen if I let it all out. I do not want to hurt you.”

Seeing her opening, Emma moved from her chair and stepped cautiously around the desk. She stood in front of her queen and placed her hands on twin hips. “I’m not asking you to take the lid off and spill everything out in one go. You’re right, there is much to do to restore order and we have to put our own needs aside for a while. But I worry that you are pushing what happened down too deep. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you haven’t actively been avoiding me?”

Brown eyes looked away guiltily. “No.” She felt Emma’s hands squeeze her waist lightly and automatically leant a little closer, letting her own hands reach up to grip defined biceps. She could feel her wall crumbling and with it, all of the thoughts and feelings she’d so diligently hidden away. As the onslaught threatened to overwhelm her, she warred with herself to not push her wife away, physically or verbally. So many insults sat on the tip of her tongue and a black cloud of anger welled at the back of her mind, but when she felt the warm flesh beneath her own, smelled the tang of leather and the blonde’s natural scent, and saw the absolute devotion gazing back at her, she willed the darkness away. “It hurts,” she whispered and immediately closed her eyes against the pricking of tears.

“I know.” Emma brought her lips to a furrowed brow and pulled Regina closer, allowing their bodies to slot together naturally. “For now, just let me hold you. I won’t push you forward if you don’t push me back. Deal?”

A wet chuckle of relief erupted from the sorceress. She breathed into her wife’s neck for a few minutes before pulling back. The blonde’s hands reached up to wipe away the rebellious tears that had escaped and she grasped them with her own. “Very well. I suppose I can agree to that.”

“I’m here for you, Regina. You’re not alone this time,” the young queen whispered.

She could only imagine how insidious the pull of darkness would be without an anchor to keep from tumbling in. It was mostly guess-work on her part, but whenever she’d had a moment to think and put the pieces together, she always pictured her wife feeling terribly alone with her grief after Daniel’s death. Surely, it was only because she loved so strongly that she had succumbed so completely to the Dark One and his teachings? These were the thoughts that made her so determined not to let Regina brush her aside.

“Let’s eat in our room tonight,” Emma suggested casually. She felt Regina tense slightly in her arms and hastened to add, “We don’t have to talk about anything in particular. Or at all actually. Let’s just be together.” It felt like a lame thing to say, but seemed to do the trick as she felt a nod against her shoulder.

The rest of the month found them like that whenever the opportunity struck – in silent companionship, taking their meals away from the prying eyes of others and cuddling up together. Emma did her best to reassure her parents that they were fine, just tired from the pressures of work and missing their home. David had taken his daughter’s words at face value, but Snow couldn’t help foraging for more details. As winter approached in full force, the villages settled in to endure the long, dark nights in their new shelters and the visiting royals prepared to depart.

Heavy snow was expected to cut off traffic within a matter of days, but before Regina and Emma could leave, there was the very important task of judgement to attend. It was to take place in the courtyard, presided over by Snow, Charming, Regina and Emma and assisted by a representative from each of the villages. New and existing advisors to the throne sat as spectators along with several members of the senior staff and new neighbours and ex-patriots from Snowfall.

Emma sat rigidly beside her wife as the crier announced each attendee and everyone solemnly took their seats. She caught the barely repressed wince from her mother when those from Snowfall were announced and felt a mix of pity and satisfaction run through her veins. Queen Snow was openly upset by the name when it was first mentioned to her, but she’d become better at hiding her pain. There was still an undercurrent of tension between the queen and the rebels, but in naming their new settlement after their former monarch, they had relaxed somewhat. Red in particular seemed content to leave sleeping wolves lie and was beginning to lose the edge to her tone when she spoke to her once best friend.

A hush fell over the gathered crowd as the prisoners were brought out and Queen Snow stood. The first few to take centre stage were given sentences for minor crimes, most of which were committed under duress. Snow, true to her nature, took pity on them and ordered them to spend just two hours every week helping the community. A harsh murmur of dissent passed around the crowd, prompting a lengthy discussion until everyone came to an agreement - and so the rest of the trial progressed. Most punishments went to the jury to debate, but for the last few prisoners, whose appearance elicited an outbreak of angry chattering, the penalty had already been decided.

Though she might be tiring, Snow stood fast and stared down at the worst offenders. “You five stand accused of treason at the highest level. From within these walls and beyond, you did lie and steal, spread discord, and brought usurpers into our home. Thankfully,” she glanced across at her daughter and Regina, and then around at the many faces gathered. “We are not as friendless and vulnerable as you apparently believed.” She waited as their eyes darted round and refocussed on her. All showed a flicker of fear, but the former Lord Starling simply glowered. “These crimes are heinous enough, but as you used our kindness to your own gain, you knowingly and wilfully robbed our people of their right to provide for themselves and live healthy lives. Through your selfishness, our people have suffered and many have lost their lives. We are all in agreement that execution would be too swift an end.”

Curious glances spread through the crowd. Whatever the punishment was, their leaders had obviously spoken about it already; as Snow continued to speak, her fellow royals and the representatives from the villages continued to appear unmoved.

“You have already been stripped of your titles and lands. From this day forward, you will live the lives of indentured servants, in service not only to the crown, but to all those you have wronged…”

Shock and horror gripped their faces, especially Starling, who pulled at his chains and threw indignant daggers at the monarchs.

“… Under armed guard, you will toil beside honest labourers, kin to the wretched folk who died as a result of your schemes, and you will earn every meal and every ounce of comfort you desire. Refuse, and you shall go hungry and sleep cold.” Regina shifted in her seat and exchanged a glance with her wife, but both stayed silent. “Until you truly understand the depth of horror you inflicted upon your fellow man, you will live this way.” Snow’s gaze travelled nonchalantly over Starling as she added, “I imagine for some of you, this may be an impossible goal.”

This time, when murmuring broke out in the crowd, it was with a satisfied edge. For the families of the deceased, who’d experienced nothing but broken promises from the crown, there was a definite sense of justice and hope in the air. Their queen had finally come to their aid in a way that would actually help; seeing the perpetrators knocked from their lofty positions would not only salve deep, emotional wounds, but should deter the new owners of their estates from attempting the same greedy schemes.

“Hypocrites!” cried an angry voice from the five accused. It was Starling. He yanked at his chains again, taking a step forward and glaring up at the royal family. “You dare to punish us when you stand there next to _her_!? The Evil Queen has yet to pay for her crimes, so why should we!?”

Emma flinched and moved to stand, her instinct to protect her wife rising like a tide within her. She found a gentle but firm hand on her wrist and stared into soulful brown eyes with surprise. Regina shook her head discretely and turned to see how Snow was going to deal with this. While she had anticipated this protest, she had been equally sure that her mother-in-law would have completely overlooked it. As an ally now, she was curious to see how her fellow monarch was going to handle being challenged – particularly since she knew that Starling had a very good point.

Queen Snow was not practised enough to hide the hesitation as she glanced between the ex-lords and her daughter-in-law. Not too long ago, she might have agreed with the belligerent prisoner – The Evil Queen’s reign of terror had uprooted many people from their lives – but as she locked gazes with Regina, she saw not the tyrant, but the young woman who had chased after a runaway horse without a second thought and rescued a scared little princess. There was a lifetime of pain still in those eyes and though her saviour had been long buried under anger and hatred, somewhere in the past two decades, she had fought her way back into the light.

Turning back to Starling, she made the same assessment and found only darkness in his gaze. She could only guess at the reason for his journey down this path, and too for his compatriots, but as it stood, remorse and accountability were still a long way from making themselves felt.

“You are wrong, Mr Starling,” Snow began confidently. “The Evil Queen is dead. If any part of her exists at all, Queen Regina is more than capable of keeping her under control. A repentant conscience is a life-long punishment.” She paused to look over at all of the spectators and noticed a marked difference in the reactions between her own people and Regina’s. “If you doubt me, I put the question to her own people; does the Evil Queen still rule your kingdom and would you see your queen punished further?”

It was a gamble and Snow could feel the tension rise around the courtyard, especially from her own daughter, whose green gaze held a hint of betrayal, but from her fellow brunette, all she found was approval and acceptance of any consequences. Proof, she thought, that her words held true.

It took a few minutes for the shock and confusion to give way for several of the visiting kingdom’s representatives to come together for a quick discussion, and then another few minutes for the excited crowd to fall back into a restless silence as an old woman stepped forward and addressed the masses…

“My name is Frieda,” she announced clearly. “I was a young woman when the Evil Queen came to power.” Her gaze drifted over to Queen Regina and noted the apprehension staring back at her. Her heart clenched, but she marched bravely on. “My daughter and I live in Wood End, closest to the queen’s castle. Ours was the first village Snow White passed through and subsequently, the first to be searched by the queen’s Dark Knights.” Most of the crowd could see where this story was going and a tense hush fell over them. Up in the royal box, Emma’s fingers closed over her wife’s clenched hand. “I was there when she rode through and demanded information on the princess. I watched as she threatened villagers, old and young and ordered every home searched. I was there every time her Dark Knights ransacked our village and beat the people for getting in the way. I watched as my husband tried to stop them hitting an old man, who was trying to protect his daughter. I watched as they beat both men to death.” She paused and glanced back up at the queen she’d grown to love. Even from a distance, she knew there were tears gathering in brown eyes. She sent a silent apology and hoped that this speech would not destroy the friendship between them. “I remember the Evil Queen well. We all do… We do not see her here today…

“Twenty years ago, around the time Queen Snow announced the truce between the kingdoms, bandits attacked me and my daughter on the road. They would have violated us and left us for dead had our queen not happened upon us. She rescued us, returned us to our home and promised to replace our goods. Since that day, she has continued to improve conditions in the villages. She has not lied or tried to cheat us. We are happy, healthy and prosperous. And though she has never asked for anything in return, we are grateful and give our loyalty freely.

“We agree with Queen Snow… the Evil Queen is dead; long live the Good Queen Regina!”

To the surprise of Snow’s subjects, every one of Regina’s people stood and replied…

“Long live the Good Queen Regina!”

Starling scoffed quietly and rolled his eyes. His last-ditch effort to win back a victory had backfired. If any of his fellow accused had held out hope, their shoulders sagged with the same air of defeat.

Queen Snow overcame her shock quickly and turned to look at her daughter-in-law. She smiled at the confounded expression on the normally impassive face. Any lingering resentment or hatred vanished in that moment.

Queen Emma breathed a sigh of relief and slipped her fingers between her wife’s as pride and affection filled her chest. Since getting married, she had known that Regina’s people looked up to the dark queen, but it was gratifying to see it displayed so publicly. Her wife would never allow herself the luxury of exoneration for her crimes, but Emma hoped that she might at least allow herself to be more content with the frivolities of life – to enjoy those moments that weren’t just about duty and redemption.

The Good Queen Regina looked out over the crowd of cheering people and swallowed with difficulty. Frieda’s story had twisted her up inside; she’d always known that her actions while hunting Snow had devastated numerous families, but there were rarely familiar faces for her to associate them with, and none so close to her. Knowing that she was directly responsible for her friend losing the man she loved – a brave and selfless man, much as Daniel had been, that she had also cost her redheaded friend her father, these thoughts cut like daggers through her chest.

And yet, they still cheered for her. The Good Queen. The words tasted false on her tongue, but they were soothing too; a reaffirmation that all of her hard work to rebuild her life and the lives of those she hurt was not taken in vain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost shed a tear while writing this last bit. I'd love to know what you all think.


	25. Snow Must Meddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are; our final update. Thank you all for reading, for the kudos and especially for the comments. You have kept me company the last two weeks and I appreciate it.
> 
> Time to wrap things up and get our two ladies home...

Regina moved efficiently around Emma’s childhood bedroom and collected the belongings that she wanted to pack. A small trunk lay open on the bed.

“How have I managed to acquire so many items?” she wondered aloud.

A month had passed since reclaiming Snow’s kingdom from Cora’s grasp. A month since she’d pushed her mother’s heart back into the hollow cavity of her chest and felt the years of lost love and affection pass between them. A month since she’d felt her mother’s life slipping away. She and Emma had stayed to support Snow and David in creating a new foundation for their kingdom and in that time, it appeared that she’d conjured almost a year’s-worth of items from her own home.

Once everything was squared away, she closed the trunk and wandered over to the window to stare out over the frost-covered scenery. She was looking forward to getting home. Emma’s presence and the general feeling of welcome she felt from hers and Snow’s people went a long way to erasing the memories of feeling trapped and tortured in this castle, but there was something to be said for having one’s own creature comforts to look upon in the morning, or bed to crawl into at the end of a long day. She looked forward to taking control of her own kingdom’s needs rather than pouring through the mire of mismanaged garbage that Snow’s ex-advisors had left behind them. But she definitely did not look forward to the moment when Emma would finally abandon her patient, in-your-own-time approach to dealing with Cora’s death.

As lovely as her wife had been about her reticence, Regina knew that it would only last as long as there was so much work over their heads and while the wounds were still fresh. Even if she didn’t make demands, Emma had a way of looking at her, with those _I know you better than anyone_ stares, and making her _want_ to talk. It was very inconvenient for someone who was so used to locking her feelings away where no one would ever reach them.

A timid knock came at the door, followed by a firmer one. Regina sighed, knowing instinctively who it was. “Come in!”

The door slid open with a slight creak and Snow’s head peeked around the frame. “Hi,” she said in greeting and slipped into the room. “I was wondering if we could talk for a while before you leave?”

“Time is at a premium, Snow. Make it quick,” Regina answered. She hated how tight her voice sounded – it was indicative of the sudden trepidation she felt and the churning in her stomach that accompanied it.

Not put off by the unwelcoming tone, the White queen softly shut the door behind her and approached. “I’m worried about Emma,” she began carefully.

While not particularly well known for her cunning, she knew her daughter and daughter-in-law well enough to recognise when there was something wrong, and she knew them both well enough to understand that they would not welcome any direct meddling. Their love for each other gave her an opening though, and with their best interests at heart, she convinced herself that a bit of interference was necessary before they began their journey home.

Snow saw the concern fall over the dark queen’s features and pressed on. “I know that the last few years have been trying, particularly for her, and this last month or two of fighting and rebuilding have taken extraordinary effort to implement, but I think there might be something deeper that’s taking a toll. I thought if anyone would know, it would be her wife.”

Lids closed over brown eyes and Regina breathed slowly for a few moments. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Snow was coming to her with this on the day of their departure. Much as she wanted to tell the nosy woman that it was none of her business, she couldn’t; the pixy-haired do-gooder had a right to worry about her daughter and ask questions. Understanding didn’t mean that she would immediately make the discovery easier for the other queen though.

Turning to face Snow, Regina adopted an impenetrable façade. “What was her response when you mentioned your concerns?”

_The atmosphere around the breakfast table was filled with excitement. Those visitors who had travelled from outside the kingdom or one of the far villages were all beginning their journeys home today and all were eager to see their friends and families, and to settle in before the winter arrived in full force. Bubbling chatter popped in waves around the guests and genuine smiles lit all their faces. All but two._

_Snow White had been surreptitiously observing her daughter for days now. After a short brightening of her general demeanour following their first outing to the villages, her smiles had become more fixed and her eyes duller. At first, Snow thought that their seemingly endless work was to blame, but then she watched Emma with Regina and suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place._

_When was the last time she’d seen the couple hold hands or share more than a polite word? She didn’t expect that either woman (but Regina in particular) would be effusive with their affections, but from the short time they’d spent in the tunnels beneath the castle, witness to the depth of love that truly did exist between them, she knew that there was something amiss._

_When Regina disappeared with the excuse of needing to pack a few last-minute items, and Emma’s eyes followed her with sadness and longing, Snow approached her daughter._

_“Emma?” she called softly and waited. When green eyes turned on her, she smiled and automatically reached out a hand to touch a wave of golden hair. “Since this is your last day with us for a while, I was hoping you would take a walk with me in the gardens?”_

_The blonde smiled back with a bit of her old warmth and followed her mother through the castle. They donned the cloaks offered to them at the door and stepped out into a world of frozen beauty. Snow wound her arm through Emma’s and led them across the path through the pear orchard. The trees stood bare, their branches silhouetted against the clear blue sky in intricate weaves and the ground crunched beneath their boots._

_“We walked this path many a time when you were little. Do you remember?” Snow began after a long, comfortable silence._

_Emma barked a short laugh. “I dragged you out here almost every day, no matter the weather; of course, I remember!”_

_Snow chuckled through her nose before falling silent. She knew that she had to tread carefully while digging for information and took her time to find the words she needed. “I used to watch you running all around the garden, tripping over your skirts, and wonder at the life you might have… I hoped that you might find your own prince charming. I hoped that there was a white knight out there for you, who would swoop in, just in time to save you from a fate I dared not imagine…” She shot a wan smile at the blonde. It all seemed so fanciful and naïve now, but hope had been her port in a storm; without it, she might have crumbled under the weight of her step-mother’s evil intentions. “I could not have foreseen your life turning out as it has, but I could not be more grateful. As strange a union as it seemed to me once, I see how well suited you and Regina are, and how much you love each other.” She slowed to a halt and turned Emma to look at her. “That is what I always wanted for my little girl.”_

_Emma nodded, a half-smile gracing her features. “She completes me,” she confessed to the frigid air, repeating the words she’d said to her father._

_Snow squeezed the hands in hers. “But all is not well at the moment, is it?” she prodded finally. Recognition and panic lit green eyes and she pushed on before her daughter could retreat. “You have not been happy lately and it has something to do with Regina.”_

_“Must you always accuse her?” the blonde queen replied sharply. She could feel her defences rising and with it, the need to protect the woman she loved._

_“It’s not an accusation, Sweetie,” Snow protested calmly. “Something is bothering the two of you and I’m worried. For her, as much as for you.”_

_Emma warred with her loyalty to her wife and their confidences, and the growing need she felt for comfort and support. Her solution to Regina’s distancing behaviour had bandaged the wound, but beneath the night time cuddles and silent encouragement, their problems were beginning to fester. Still, if she knew her lover at all, then she knew that the idea of sharing their issues with Snow White would be abhorrent to her._

_Emma’s expression hardened. “We’re fine,” she answered bluntly._

_Snow sighed internally. It was hard not to let her impatience get the better of her but there was no time left to be patient and drag it out. “I know that your relationship is none of my business, but you are still my daughter, Emma and I am entitled to worry about you.” She sighed out loud this time and threaded her arm back through the blonde’s. “I know that I haven’t been there for you recently, but I’m here now. I’m not asking you to break any confidences, but I can offer a shoulder to cry on at the very least. You are not ‘fine’,” she added softly._

_Emma tilted her head back and stared at the sky, willing her tears away, but her mother’s words wormed their way into her thoughts and she felt like a little girl again – a child who just needed a parent’s loving arms to chase away the sorrows._

“She told me she was fine,” Snow paused for effect before adding, “And then she cried for half an hour.”

Regina’s eyes closed instantly at the image of her wife needing someone to hold her as she cried. Her chest ached at the effort it took to hold back her own tears, but her eyes were still glassy when they finally opened again. “You are the last person I want to discuss this with,” she muttered as she moved to take a seat on the couch.

Snow smiled softly. “That may have been true once, but I’m sure I could name dozens whose ears have less appeal.” The dark queen huffed but didn’t argue, so she pressed on. “Regina, you and Emma have done so much for me, let me give something back. You saved me from your tyrannical mother, the least I can do is listen.”

 _She almost had me,_ Regina’s inner voice seethed as she shot up from the plush seat, startling her companion. “Thank you, but no,” she spat insistently.

Hesitantly, the White queen stood, an expression of confusion plastered liberally across her features for several seconds, until her own words came back to her. “This is about Cora,” she whispered with sudden understanding.

The sorceress glared at the other woman, hoping that the hostility in her stance would persuade her to leave. She must not have put enough fire into her glare though, as the persistent annoyance only proceeded to move closer.

Snow stared into the lasers glowering back at her and saw what she’d been missing before; fear, confusion and grief. She thought back to the few moments after she’d discovered Regina and Daniel in the stables, how that very same fear had shone from brown eyes when she mentioned telling her father to call off the engagement. Years later, when she’d eventually understood where things had fallen apart and why this brave and beautiful woman had turned so completely to hate, she’d looked upon Cora in a new light. After experiencing her control first hand, she had naturally assumed that Regina would be glad to be shot of her, but she could see now that her assumption was wrong.

“You miss her,” she continued in her hushed tone.

Angry now, Regina fisted her fingers and focussed on the pain of nails digging into skin. “She was my mother, Snow. Of course, I miss her!” she spat. No longer able to look at the expression of innocent confusion on the other woman’s face, she turned her face back to the vista and seethed silently.

The dark queen could feel the same age-old rage bubbling beneath the surface of her thoughts, but much as she wished she could let it loose, the desire to bury herself in darkness just wasn’t there. Even if she did decide to give in to temptation, she knew that it wouldn’t have the same impact. Satisfaction had only ever been possible because she had forsaken people and their affections. Now, with Emma and their friends offering so much love, the darkness just didn’t have the same appeal.

“I don’t understand. Cora was awful to you. She killed your fiancé. She forced you to marry my father. She would have tortured Emma and enslaved your children. Are you not relieved to see her gone?” She shifted in her seat and thought back to the battle. She didn’t really expect the other woman to respond but to her immense surprise, the sorceress stalked the room before lowering herself back onto the couch in defeat.

Regina stared for several seconds at a spot on the wall beside the door. She appeared to battle with herself for a long time before her expression crumpled. Still, she said nothing and Snow eventually decided that she needed to set the ball rolling.

“How _did_ you and Emma defeat your mother in the end?” Snow enquired after a short, tense silence.

Regina’s head fell slowly into her hands and a rebellious sob tripped over her tongue. A small, irritated voice in the back of her mind cursed her for being weak, especially in the presence of the enemy, but she ignored it. She was tired. Tired of fighting alone. Tired of forcing her feelings into boxes for fear of her mother’s voice and the tone of disappointment and disgust that would forever scar her soul. She felt the shape of a hand on her back and sobbed harder as it began to rub in circles, soothing, not scolding.

So much relief coursed through her body at that single touch. She’d opened the flood gates and the very things she’d feared now came to pass. _How can such a good feeling hurt so much?_ said a different voice. The thought flitted across her mind and then was quickly swallowed up.

Was it any wonder that Snow was confused by her attitude towards Cora’s death? This broken woman was the result of years of emotional and physical torture, inflicted by the very person who was supposed to protect her from such things – her mother. But Snow couldn’t know about the connection Regina and Cora experienced at the end of the battle. No one knew because she refused to let them see. Perhaps it was time to open the lid on that weighty box?

_It is past time, querida. Let them in. You are surrounded by love now, mi reinita. Let them see you._

Sir Henry’s voice filled his daughter’s head and quietened the harsh stabbing of Cora’s ingrained criticisms. His early efforts, when Regina was still just a child, had little impact. But his consistent presence at her side had whittled away at her walls until there was a father-shaped hole in them, and without her conscious knowledge, his encouragements had burrowed their way in and made themselves at home.

Even from the grave, he was trying to help his little girl.

As if knowing that she was needed, the door to the suite opened and Emma wandered into the room. She paused at the sight before her and pushed the door to with a snap. Glassy, brown eyes rose to catch her own gaze and with a few quick strides, she crossed the room to kneel in front of her distraught spouse. Her worried frown deepened as she absorbed the pain in Regina’s stare and she turned an accusing look on her mother. “What did you do? I told you we were fine; you should have stayed out of it!” she hissed.

Snow opened her mouth to protest the assumption but Regina beat her to it and reached up to cup Emma’s face with both hands before covering the blonde’s lips with her own. She felt her wife’s tense muscles relax into the kiss and kept her close until she felt the last of her anger dissipate. “It’s alright, Emma,” she soothed. “Your mother’s meddling is actually helping for once.”

Emma released a surprised snort of amusement and closed her eyes in relief. She let her forehead rest against Regina’s and breathed in the joy of feeling hope again. Not having truly appreciated how much stress her concerns were putting on her body, she felt abruptly tired and moved so that she could squeeze onto the couch. As she wound her arms around her wife’s shoulders and felt the brunette slump against her, she shot a sheepish glance at her mother.

Snow smiled and nodded, accepting the apology. While a large part of her wanted to stay and follow through on her question, she listened to her new-found sense of knowing when her presence wasn’t needed and stood. She was half-way to the door when she heard her name.

Regina lifted her head from Emma’s shoulder and contemplated the pixy-haired queen for several seconds. She considered asking her to stay, but quickly thought better of it. While she might have opened up to Snow as a last resort, now that Emma was beside her, she wanted to be alone with her wife, and have the conversation that they should have had after Cora’s death.

Still, Snow had been an unexpected asset today and she was grateful. “Thank you,” she said warmly.

The White queen nodded and left the couple in peace. She wandered through the castle half in a daze, wondering over the idiosyncrasies of life and the crazy notion of comforting a sobbing Regina Mills. Her home sparkled with life again and servants greeted her with warm smiles. The memory of Cora’s figurative claws in every part of her kingdom still had the power to make her shudder with horror and her thoughts returned to her daughter-in-law. It was a sign, she supposed, of Regina’s great capacity for love, that she could give it still to a woman so undeserving. She itched to know what the dark queen was telling her wife right now, but shook the desire away.

In time perhaps, she would understand. Until then, she vowed not to waste the gift of a second chance.

Back in Emma’s room, the visiting royal couple had relocated to the bed, where they lay snuggled under a blanket facing each other. Regina’s hand tamed blonde curls behind a delicate ear and explored the smooth contours of her wife’s face. Neither queen moved to begin the conversation and so time ticked away without seeing any progress.

“You are awfully quiet,” Regina broke the silence at last.

“I don’t know what to say,” Emma confessed shyly.

“You have become accustomed to walking on egg shells around me.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

Silence settled again for several long heartbeats as their thoughts whirred and each tried to find the courage to begin.

It is a peculiar thing – to know what you want and need to say, but be unable to find the words to utter the correct sentiments. One must be a mind-reader, an empath and an accomplished orator in order to achieve the task without the risk of causing offense and turning the whole endeavour on its head. How many quarrels begin as misunderstandings because we take too little time to consider our words? But relationships cannot function without communication, and we are none of us perfect. Courage and patience are sometimes the only weapons we have to carry us through when all else fails.

Emma thought back to the day she had faked a meeting with her wife in order to steal a few moments of her time. She had not balked at the task that day; she needed some of that bravado now. Her hand found the one stroking her face and held it against her chest.

“I stand by what I said before, Regina,” she began in a whisper. “I won’t force you to talk, but I don’t think we will truly be able to move on from this until you do.”

Regina nodded reluctantly and took a deep breath. When she began, it was as if the words wouldn’t come fast enough. “You recall when we were in your mother’s office, just before _Grand Duke Starling_ arrived?” The blonde nodded. “I found a box with my mother’s heart in it.”

Emma frowned, both at the news and the matter-of-fact tone in which it was delivered. “You didn’t tell me that at the time. Why would she take out her heart and leave it lying around in a box?”

Regina ignored the first statement; she wasn’t quite sure why she’d kept it to herself, but it had just seemed like the best decision at the time. “For a long time, I wondered if she had removed it. No matter what I did, she was never satisfied. As a child, I thought it was my failing. As an adult, I told myself that I didn’t care – love was weakness, so I was better off without her. But since agreeing to a truce with Snow, I began to wonder at her philosophy.” Her soulful eyes captured Emma’s and she studied the contours of her wife’s face for a moment. “Forsaking love is not easy…

“I spent years trying to harden my heart, but even as the Evil Queen, I felt every betrayal and every slight keenly. Mother had no such difficulty. She was ambitious. Greedy. Full of pride and desperate for power. But I do not believe that she truly hated anything, not as I did.”

“I suppose to be able to hate people, you have to be able to care,” Emma added into the brief silence.

Regina inclined her head in agreement. “She didn’t care. She didn’t love. I thought it was my fault for being too weak, but as I began to suspect, and as I now know, she was unable to feel either because she had removed the very thing that let people in – her heart.”

The blonde nodded, but a frown remained on her face. “I still don’t understand why she would take it out.”

“Is it not obvious? If she truly thought that love was weakness and having a heart made it impossible not to love, then taking it out solved the problem.”

Understanding dawned on pale features and Emma’s eyes widened with sadness. “She loved someone. You? Or perhaps, she knew that she would love you?” The brunette nodded sadly and the young queen squeezed the hand against her chest. Her thoughts turned to the end of the battle, when she’d been suffocating under Cora’s magic and then the shadow of her wife crossed into her vision and the pressure on her lungs suddenly released. She recalled the broken expression on Regina face and the devastation that had followed Cora’s demise. “You returned her heart,” she concluded. “That’s why she stopped attacking. That’s how you saved us.”

The brunette swallowed with difficulty and screwed her eyes closed as she tried to fight back more tears. It was a futile attempt. Minutes passed as she worked through her turmoil, helped largely by Emma’s hands on her back and kisses in her hair. When she was finally able to speak again, her eyes and head ached. A fleeting lament for her appearance gave her pause, but she had little energy left to care.

“I had hoped, that by being able to feel again, that I could stall her long enough to incapacitate her. I had planned to use the magic-binding cuff that she used on me.” She shook her head to rid it of the thousands of stinging words that rose to her mind. “I underestimated the effect it would have. The moment it reached her chest, we connected. I saw her life pass before my eyes. I felt her hardships and the bitterness that grew within her. I experienced the love she would have felt for me and saw the life we should have lived.” More tears slipped across her cheeks and she wiped at them absently. “It was little more than a brief glance, but I knew, as she was dying in my arms, that she loved me…

“… and I had killed her!”

Emma felt her own chest constrict with sympathy. She pulled her wife close and held her as more agony poured out from Regina’s fragmented heart. She knew now why it had taken so long for the brunette to talk about this; to long for a mother’s love and then to feel it so briefly before she died, and to know that your own hands had taken her life… Those thoughts had to have torn Regina up inside. It was no wonder that she hadn’t wanted to explore them further.

Queen Emma was not entirely sold on Regina's conclusion, but as a gentle knock landed on their door, she knew that they had run out of time today.

* * * * *

Anticipating her mother’s need for ceremony and a big send-off, Emma rushed through the corridors of her childhood home in search of the White queen. She and Regina had only just managed to tidy themselves up and her wife was still fighting to pull her mask over her grief; the last thing either of them wanted at that moment was dozens of staring servants and guards scrutinising their departure.

When she stepped into the courtyard though and spotted the carriage and their retinue, Emma breathed a sigh of relief. Footsteps approached from behind her and she turned to find her mother’s concerned features looking back at her. “Mom?”

“I thought you might like to slip away without too much fuss,” Snow confessed and studied her daughter’s expression hopefully.

Emma sighed in relief and threw her arms around the smaller woman. “Thank you,” she whispered into the shell of an ear.

Pleased with her choice, Snow held her daughter’s hands in her own and asked in an equally hushed tone, “How did it go?”

The blonde shifted slightly. Regina had given her cart-blanche to tell her mother what she thought the other queen needed to hear, but there was a fine line before giving away too much, so she hesitated before explaining about Cora’s heart. “She loved Regina in the end.”

“And Regina is broken up about killing her,” Snow concluded correctly. She considered the information she had for several seconds before firming her jaw. “Tell Regina the carriage is ready for her and not to worry about prying eyes, and then go and finish your goodbyes. I will speak to her.”

Emma wavered. Her mother was not known for her ability to see beyond her own needs, but she had grown a lot as a person over the last few weeks. Reluctantly, she followed the suggestion and within minutes, Queen Regina appeared at the main door, cloak wrapped securely around her shoulders and her hood tipped just a little further over her forehead than usual.

Her feet descended the steps to the courtyard with measured movements – not too fast and not too slow. After her talk with Emma, her mother was on her mind more than ever and Cora's lessons around etiquette nagged at her. She made it to the carriage without having to make eye contact with anyone but the footman and slid inside with relief. As she took her seat and removed her hood though, she caught sight of the woman sitting opposite her and startled.

“Snow,” she grumbled and then released an exasperated breath of air. “You already managed to corner my wife? How efficient of you.”

“Emma was coming to look for me.” She paused, suddenly worried that she was going to get her daughter into a world of trouble.

“Do not fret, dear; I gave her permission to tell you anything she thought necessary.” The White queen’s shoulders slumped and her expression relaxed. “So, you know that I have blood on my hands once again. If you are here to console me, I would rather you refrained.”

“You will grieve as you must, Regina. I can’t do anything about that, and I know that my daughter is more than capable of supporting you when you need it,” Snow told the dark queen bluntly. At a raised eyebrow, she added, “Actually, I wanted to give you something to think about, from a mother’s point of view.”

Brown eyes widened ever so slightly with curiosity. “Go on.”

“These last few years, without my complete comprehension, I have treated Emma terribly. Now that I can feel and respond to my own will again, I can’t help but feel guilty for all that I put her through. I can’t begin to understand how devastated I would be if I had Cora’s memories of raising you and suddenly became aware of how reprehensible my actions were.” She watched Regina’s expression and body language carefully and knew instantly that she had a severely limited amount of time to reach her point. “I can’t speak for your mother, but as a mother myself, I can say with confidence that any parent who loves their child would gladly die for them. If I had believed that my death would save Emma from your wrath and that no other person would suffer as a result, I would have given you my heart to crush with barely a second thought.”

Regina’s increasing discomfort and subsequent anger quelled beneath this confession and her features fell again. This rollercoaster of emotions was making her head spin and for an instant, she felt the urge to just transport herself home to escape the next spiral.

Sensing the pain inflicted by her words, Snow leaned forward and placed her hands atop the ones resting regally on her companion’s knees. “Love is a gift, Regina. You gave your mother that, right at the end. You know yourself that guilt is a consequence of your own actions; that's what she felt, but you are the victim here. Do not take responsibility for her mistakes. Love was your gift to her, and death gave her a release from her pain, even if many would argue that she didn’t deserve it. In both cases, you are not at fault.

“You saved countless lives, Emma’s and your own included. The mother you knew in those last few moments would not want you to burden yourself for her sake. A mother who loves her child can only wish happiness on them.” With one last, firm squeeze of the dark queen’s hands, she finished, “Your job now, is to live the life you should have had from birth – a life of ups and downs, but one filled with love. That is the last gift you can give to your mother.”

Outside the carriage, Emma stood, waiting. She had rushed round to say a few last goodbyes, and to tell her father that she and Regina were ready to leave, and then she’d made her way swiftly back to her wife’s side. Her hurried strides had brought her right up close to the ornate door and her hand automatically reached to pull the handle, but her mother’s firm yet compassionate tone had given her pause. Now, she waited, her father watching warily on from the keep’s entrance.

Before long, silence fell and the carriage door opened to let Snow exit. She took her daughter’s offered hand and wrapped her in a hug before Emma could slip past her. “I hope that helped somewhat. Take care of each other, Emma.”

The blonde queen nodded into her mother’s shoulder and hugged back. As they parted, she found King David beside her and fell into his arms too, feeling relief at having the nightmare of the last couple of years finally over. When he released her, she slipped into her conveyance and green eyes searched tentatively for their favourite shade of brown. Like magnets, they were drawn to each other and they locked together instantly.

Regina grasped Emma’s arm as if she’d been waiting for months for her wife to join her. She held on to her anchor and all but dragged Emma into her seat. “I’m looking forward to seeing our home,” she offered. Her eyes said so much more than those few simple words, but the meaning was clear besides; they were okay. It might take some time, but their lives had taken a dramatic turn and the future looked even brighter from here on out.

“What exactly did my mother say to you?” Emma wondered aloud as Regina gave into her exhaustion and laid her head on the blonde’s shoulder.

A small smirk tugged at a scarred lip. “Oh, this and that. Enough to have used her entire quota of wise words for this decade, I fear.”


	26. Epilogue

** Five years later… **

David smiled at his wife’s impatient and excited bouncing, but settled his hand once more on her knee to stop her from rocking the carriage. He was beginning to feel nauseated from the peculiar motion.

“We’re nearly there,” he soothed.

“I know,” Snow whined. “I don’t recall this road being so long.”

“We come this way every few months. It’s the same length as it was before the last snow fall.” He chuckled at her sour expression and kissed the top of her head. “Look,” he pointed out of the window at the appearance of the one-mile-mark. “Not far to go.”

The passage of time showed clearly on the royal couple’s faces; not with extra lines or greys, but in the fullness of Snow White’s cheeks again and the toll of duties diligently worked. The air of innocence and naivety, which sat for so long on the White queen’s features had given way to a queenly look that told a tale of hard-earned wisdom. While some still referred to her as the Soft Queen and others had still not forgiven the crown for its neglect, the kingdom had begun to prosper again after years of toil and the majority of the people were content that their beloved queen had not only the heart, but the means to keep that momentum going. They didn't need to know that success hinged on her continued friendship with her tutor/daughter-in-law.

Not only was Snow White’s kingdom flourishing, but its relationship with its nearest neighbours had also moved from strength to strength. Rather than fearing the inevitable takeover when their queen died, the White kingdom looked to the future with confidence. Queen Regina and Queen Emma had proven themselves to be as unrivalled in peace as they were in war. Queen Abigail’s kingdom might have more gold, Agrabbah might have more splendour, and the Maritime Kingdom had its navy, but none had seen such a drastic turnaround in the relationships between their royals.

From fickle family to hated enemy, which saw the old king’s death and tore the kingdom in half. From evil tyrant and hunted princess to queens at war and unsavoury deals for peace. From reluctant in-laws to tentative allies. And now, a true family, with a foundation of love, strength and cooperation that none dared test. When the day came for the kingdom to return to single control, the people were ready. They would mourn Snow, but they welcomed Regina and Emma, and now, they looked forward to the next generation of monarchs.

The carriage trundled up to the castle gates and were inspected rigorously before gaining entry. Snow grumbled at the delay, but tolerated it regardless. She had asked her daughter about the stringent security on their first few visits after Cora’s death and was told, quite frankly, that security protocols were for everyone’s benefit and that relaxing them would only invite attack. Now that her wife was no longer immortal and their family was growing, Emma was inflexible in her need to maintain their protection. As they rode into the courtyard, servants came to greet them and Snow was finally allowed to proceed under the power of her own impatience.

David followed his wife into the keep and along familiar corridors to where the family and guest rooms were situated. He heard a high-pitched squeal and recalled the screams of pain and frustration they’d arrived to the last time they were in this situation. A small figure barrelled around a corner, followed by an exasperated servant and the king knelt automatically to catch the human projectile.

“Whoa there, Henry,” David scolded gently as he lifted his grandson high into the air.

The toddler giggled unrepentantly. “Gan-pa!” he squealed with delight.

A harassed looking Matilda stopped short of the couple and dropped her head slightly. “Your majesties, I’m so sorry…”

Snow placed a hand on the blonde’s arm and smiled gently. “It’s not your fault.” Turning to the boy, she levelled a disapproving stare at him. “Henry, you know your mothers don’t let you run around the hallways like that. What do you say to Matilda?”

The boy’s exuberant expression fell and his lip began to tremble. It reminded David so strongly of his daughter that he struggled for a moment not to laugh.

Henry looked from his grandmother to his playmate and guardian. It had been such an unusual day so far; the castle was so abuzz with news of the new prince or princess that he’d forgotten all about the rules he was supposed to follow. It seemed to him that everyone else was having fun instead of working, so why shouldn’t he?

Glassy eyes looked at the maid from beneath long lashes. “I sowwy, Tiyyee,” the little prince said.

Matilda relaxed after regaining her breath and smiled fondly at her charge. “Thank you, your Highness. I’ll let you off, seeing as it’s such a special day. I think we should confine our play to your nursery until dinner time though.”

“Is Emma ready for visitors?” Snow asked then.

The maid’s eyes caught the queen’s and she nodded. “Yes. I think she might be sleeping now, but Queen Regina left orders to send you straight in when you arrived.”

Both royals smiled at the news and David bounced the lively three-year-old on his hip. “We’ll take this boisterous little knight with us then. I imagine you’re quite ready for a break.”

“You’re sure, your majesty?” the blonde wavered.

“Quite sure,” Snow added. “We see little enough of our grandson as it is; we must make the most of him while we’re here. Also, I’m guessing that his mischief has a lot to do with wanting to meet his new sibling.”

“Very well,” Matilda allowed with relief. She inclined her head, ruffled the prince’s hair a little and disappeared down a flight of stairs.

Snow and David found two guards outside of their daughter’s room and slowed as they approached. Henry wriggled in his grandfather’s arms and reached for the left guard’s hat as they passed.

“Hewow, Dee,” he called into the man’s ear.

Dee bit the inside of his cheek and reached for the door to open it as David wrestled the boy back into his arms. The moment they reached Emma and Regina’s bedroom though, the three-year-old managed to move so much that the king had no choice but to put him down or drop him.

“Mommy!” he called excitedly as he charged around the bed. His brunette mother had been reclining next to her wife but managed to slide off in time to catch him. “Gan’ma an’ Gan-pa here!”

Regina swallowed the initial annoyance she felt at the interruption. Lost in watching Emma and their baby sleep, she found the sudden noise intrusive, but one look at her son’s cherubic features and her heart melted. “Yes, I see. It’s a very good thing that you all arrived when you did; there’s someone very special here to meet you.”

Henry twisted a little to look across at the bed. Emma had stirred at her son’s arrival and now looked around at her family with a tired smile. In her arms, a tiny mouth yawned and wrinkled fingers grasped at the air. Henry found himself hovering over the squirming bundle as Regina returned to sitting on the bed and for the first time since he’d woken up that morning, he held perfectly still and stared down silently.

Emma shared an amused smile with her wife and gestured at the toddler with her head. “That’s a first.”

Regina nodded her agreement and kissed her son’s silky hair. “This is Amorette, Henry. Your sister.”

The baby squawked and threw her hands behind her head, prompting a gentle rocking from her blonde mother. Henry said nothing but placed his thumb into his mouth and leant more heavily against the dark queen. On the other side of the bed, Snow and David approached, taking it in turns to lean over to kiss their daughter.

“Princess Amorette,” Snow whispered as the tips of her fingers touched a sprig of her granddaughter’s fair hair. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is,” Regina agreed wholeheartedly. As sometimes happened when Snow was around and she was feeling particularly introspective, her mind returned to the words spoken in a carriage five years ago. Every new day with her wife, their son and now their daughter was filled with the simplest of delights. How different her life would be if she had not realised one simple fact…

Though sometimes scary. Though sometimes fleeting. Though sometimes painful or unrequited.

Love is a gift.

* * * * *

In the corner of the room, a shadow lurked – its luminous gaze fixed avidly on the now content family. Breathing deeply through slitted nostrils, it pulled syrupy sweetness from the air. Its interference had reached a satisfying climax. With no more twisting events to entertain this old sprite, it grinned to itself and disappeared – off to find more lives with which to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needless to say, Henry is not the same as in the show, but I figured that Regina would want to name her son after her father, regardless of his origins.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I did. I can hardly believe that we're at the end already, but thank you all again for being a part of this journey.


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